


Convergence

by keirajo



Series: TF:MTMTE/LL-A.U. (divergence from canon) [5]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Character Death, Complicated Relationships, Friendship, Friendship/Love, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 10:34:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14330610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keirajo/pseuds/keirajo
Summary: The epic lead in to my dual duology (yes, I said that) "Power of the Primes" tie-in is soon to start!   Megatron, Rodimus and the others have returned from the Functionist Universe and still have yet to deal with how to get off Censerre's world and find the Lost Light, deal with Getaway, yada-yada, etc., etc.!But first.............Rodimus is about to learn something, about himself and his destiny.





	Convergence

_**Convergence** _

 

            Ratchet slapped his palm over his face as Rodimus explained things to him.

            “I know……you don’t have to say it,” Rodimus mumbled, looking away from the old Autobot doctor.  He was both embarrassed and fairly anxious at having to explain why he’d nearly keeled over in the doorway as Megatron brought him in a little while ago.

            “Look, I honestly didn’t need to hear all _that_ ,” Ratchet groaned, putting his instruments away neatly on the table.  “We’re stuck here a while longer, until we can get a ship to chase after the _Lost Light_.  People are getting restless and bored…….and I _get it_.  Some of us had a big dumb adventure that got us some answers, but not a ship.  Others back here picked fights and also had a big dumb adventure as well,” the old doctor continued, facing Rodimus and crossing his arms over his chestplate.  “But you should know better than to let things go **_that far_** …………… _Megatron_ should know better than to let things go that far.  What is up with the two of you, _seriously_?!”  He groaned in an even louder voice, to make his annoyance at the situation perfectly clear.

            “In human romance books, they’d call it _‘make-up sex’_ ……..getting passionately physical to make up for an argument in a relationship,” Rodimus murmured, softly.   “I didn’t realize he’d go overboard with it, but I _should’ve_ realized it………………..he’s _really_ a perv.”  Rodimus fidgeted, but didn’t get up from the examination table.  He was not ready to piss Ratchet off any more than he already seemed to be, so he would not move until he was certain it was alright to get up.

            “What the hell should **_I_** do about this?  Why the hell are you coming to _me_?  You should just get some sleep, _lots of sleep_ ,” Ratchet snapped, annoyance in his voice.  “In fact………..let me put you into **_stasis_** for a few years, that’d help you, probably……” he trailed off, jokingly.  Then he gave a soft and hearty laugh.  He certainly never expected to hear such a wild explanation for the relationship of two Cybertronians in his entire life……..and he’d seen many different things in his long life.

            “I’ve missed your forthright diagnoses,” Rodimus chuckled, finally feeling comfortable enough in sitting up and he swung his legs over the edge of the exam table.  “Things had been strained between us since the issue with the DJD.  The stress of that Functionist Cybertron adventure didn’t help our relationship any.  Until we realized we could’ve lost each other forever…………….Megatron got _very clingy_ and I have a really hard time resisting him when he’s all touchy-feely like that.”

            “You know…….. _Drift_ still has feelings for you,” Ratchet chided.   The whole time he’d just spent with Drift, after finding him, almost half of the old warrior’s words had mentioned Rodimus in its sentences.   He had thought, back on the ship before, that Rodimus and Drift had _some kind of relationship_ , but they’d never done anything in public that would point to that.   It seemed odd, because Rodimus wasn’t hiding his relationship with Megatron in any way at all, it had to have been that injury he’d been told Rodimus had suffered, which changed the way he did things and reacted to things.

            “Drift is still very special to me, too,” Rodimus murmured, a bit softly and a bit sadly.  “I _can’t_ deny that.  But Megatron pulled me out of a very deep darkness and I really love him very much.”

            “Hearing you say those words aloud is weird………….and somehow also very nice to hear,” Ratchet chuckled.   He turned and walked back to the table with the medical gear and looked around back at Rodimus for a moment.   “While you’re here……..let me take a look at your old injury there,” he added, picking up a scope with a light on it and twirled it in his fingers as he walked back over to Rodimus.  Rodimus leaned his shoulders down so Ratchet could push up his helmet and open his headplating, to check the healed brain injury.  “I’d forgotten what you were like without your ego…….I haven’t seen you like this since you were at the Academy.  I forgot you were really like this, once upon a time,” he murmured, looking over every detail of the healed injury carefully.  “But……it is why I originally came along on your trip.  I did remember you were a kind person once and I could tell you believed in this quest that you’re on.   And you like saving people, _that_ is something that I can admire from you.”

            “D’awwwww…….you’re making me blush,” Rodimus chuckled, softly.

            Ratchet gave a snort and closed Rodimus’ head up and then pushed the younger Cybertronian’s shoulders to get him to sit up straight.  “Don’t push it, kid,” Ratchet grumbled as Rodimus put his helm back on.  “Look.  You’ve burned through a bunch of circuits……rest is about the only thing that’s going to help your self-repair systems at the moment.  So…….. ** _SERIOUSLY_**.  _No more screwing around with your avatars_ ………………..and I mean that **_LITERALLY_**.  _Gah_ …………I can’t believe you two are really doing that kind of stuff…….I can’t believe I just had to _tell you to stop_ doing that kind of stuff.   I also can’t believe Megatron’s so _obsessed_ with it.  He absolutely _despised_ organics and their ways………………….” the old doctor groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.  He can’t believe he just said those words and thought about what the two had been doing.  Using the holomatter avatars…………that only had _basic_ physical sensation and functions.  How in the universe did that even work???    “So….get some _sleep_.  Tell Megatron that you _need to get more sleep_.  And also…………..why don’t you two find something _less_ internally damaging to do together?  Like…….read a book or something?”  He suggested, giving a shrug.

            “Read a book, hunh?” Rodimus murmured.  He, then, chuckled.  “You know…….that’s actually not a bad idea.”

 

*      *     *     *     *

 

            “Ah, Cyclonus,” Rodimus greeted, waving at the old warrior as he walked down the hallway.   “I haven’t had the time to properly thank you……………thanks for keeping an eye on things back here, for me,” he said, lightly grabbing Cyclonus’ hand and shaking it in a weird formal kind of gesture.

            “I………….have been wanting to ask you why you put _me_ in charge…….?”  Cyclonus murmured.   Almost everything Rodimus ever did left him puzzled.

            “Because you were an administrator on Nova Prime’s flagship.  That means you have some kind of leadership qualities,” Rodimus said, then tilted his head and smiled at the old warrior.  “And…I needed someone who could stay calm in any kind of situation.  Considering what a mess we had back here, with so many different people…I figured _you_ would be the one who could stay calm enough to resolve the situation.”

            “I see,” Cyclonus responded, nodding as he accepted the explanation.  “Thank you,” he added, softly.  There was the ghost of a smile that crossed his faceplate.

            “It also seems that something deeper happened between you and Tailgate while we were gone,” Rodimus continued, trying to be a little chatty and friendly.  “I know you feel actions should say it all, but………….sometimes words need to be said, too.  Right?”  He inquired, tilting his head at Cyclonus to wait for an answer.

            “Indeed.  But **_I_** did not say them,” Cyclonus answered.  “Whirl felt he needed to say the things I would not,” he added, sighing.    It wasn’t as if he were angry at Whirl for doing so, in fact he felt it had been a blessing.   But he never liked to say the words aloud and become attached, because the future was never certain.

            “You two get along really well,” Rodimus chuckled, his wording implying that meant Cyclonus’ odd relationships with both Whirl and Tailgate.  “It’s not so bad……..having friends and loved ones.  And letting them know you care.  _Words_ can be just as important as actions…………it’s just a lot easier to say the wrong things.  And I’m sure that’s more or less what you worry about……..saying words that get misinterpreted.”

            “Even saying words in the right way, they can be misinterpreted by the person you’re saying them to,” Cyclonus sighed.  He was not a generally chatty person, but he found he did not mind speaking with Rodimus.  At least…….speaking with Rodimus now that he’s mostly dropped the ego and grandstanding.    _This_ Rodimus was far easier to deal with.

            “Tell me about it………….Megatron and I say stuff to each other _all the time_ and sometimes we still wind up raising our voices over things,” Rodimus said with a light chuckle.  “But it’s fine………..as long as the words don’t make an insurmountable wall, then they can still be understood in the end.”

            “Things were strained between the two of you before you went to Cybertron,” Cyclonus murmured.  “Is everything all right now, then?”  He asked, trying to put a tone of kindness into his deep voice.   He had perked up at this, because he found the relationship between the two dramatically different Cybertronians a bit fascinating.

            “Well………..we’re getting there.   Although, now I have to tell him _‘hands off’_ for a little while because he went overboard, burned out a ton of my circuits and I’m super-tired at the moment,” Rodimus responded with a chuckle.  “In fact………….I _should_ head off to a recharge slab before Ratchet comes out and asks why I haven’t gone to bed yet.”

            Rodimus walked down the hallway, looking for an empty room with a recharge slab, when Megatron stopped him with a brief touch on his arm.

            “Are you alright?”  He asked, deeply concerned.  Rodimus had pretty much collapsed on him afterwards, not even technically deactivating his avatar………….his avatar system quit when he went fully unconscious.   He’d carried Rodimus to the room that Ratchet was using for examinations, when Rodimus became conscious and went into a pout right before getting there, begging to be set down onto his own two feet.

            “It’s _your_ fault…….you went overboard, old man,” Rodimus sighed, turning and engaging in the offered hug.   “Ratchet told me I needed to sleep, so I think I’ll set myself into a 30-hour recharge cycle.   I don’t really like sleeping for that long, but I’m exhausted, thanks to you.”    Ah, Rodimus really loved being held.  It felt so nice with the partner he cherished having his arms about him.

            “Sorry, but not really,” Megatron chuckled, squeezing Rodimus gently.

            “Yeah, yeah……………….rub that endurance thing in, why don’t you?   Ratchet also said for me to tell you…………and I quote:   _no more screwing around with your avatars_.  **_Literally_** , he means,” Rodimus said with a laugh, mimicking Ratchet’s stern voice perfectly.   “You’re going to have to give it a rest for a while until I’m fully recovered and my circuits are back up to speed and function.   But…………..I’m glad you didn’t stay.  Back there.  With Terminus.”

            “He tried to trick me into it………….it’s a good thing I’m fast when I want to be, I barely made it to the new transfer point in time,” Megatron sighed, he shook his head, thoughts drifting back to that moment.   “He doesn’t want me to face death in the trial that I am still to have.”

            “I admit that **_I_** don’t want you to either, but……………..that’s just me being selfish, now,” Rodimus sighed, snuggling closer to Megatron’s chest, rubbing his cheek against it.

            “I won’t give up my sparkmate, they’ll have to rip out my Spark and T-Cog and other vital organs before I part from you,” Megatron murmured, patting Rodimus’ back with his cheek against the top of the younger Cybertronian’s head.

            “There are times when you say all the _right_ things, old man,” Rodimus chuckled, tightening his hug.

 

            _“I’m staying behind,” Terminus said, seriously, holding Megatron’s gaze with intent._

_Megatron had a mix of emotions rush through him.  He figured it was going to come to this, Terminus had been expressing consistently throughout this adventure to the Functionist Cybertron that he wanted to stay and help the rebellion—and he wanted Megatron to remain behind as well._

_“Rodimus,” Megatron said, grabbing the younger Cybertronian’s arm for a moment.  “I’ll catch up,” he added, softly.  Rodimus looked like he wanted to snap out something rather mean and angry.  “ **One minute** , that’s all I need.  You have my word,” he said, sliding his hand down Rodimus’ arm to clasp his hand fondly._

_They stared at each other and it felt longer than the few seconds that it actually was.  Pouting and annoyed, Rodimus turned away and started to walk behind the group, who were following Clicker to the nearest matter transporter.  Then Rodimus turned back for a second.  “ **One minute** ,” he growled in frustration, then he ran to catch up to the others._

_Megatron held his hand out to Terminus.  “Goodbye, Terminus,” he said softly as his old friend clasped his hand with a firm squeeze.  “Seeing you again—if only for one more day—was a miracle,” Megatron added, smiling fondly down at him._

_“You realize we don’t **have** to part company……………” Terminus trailed off, reluctant to let go of Megatron’s hand._

_Megatron sighed, finally pulling his hand away from his former mentor’s.  “If I stayed behind—if I went back on my word—then I would not be the person you think I am,” he said, shaking his head.  “And the person you think I am…that’s the person I **want** to be,” he added, taking a step back._

_Suddenly Terminus’ personal communicator buzzed and Megatron was surprised his hadn’t.  But then his self-diagnostic systems told him he’d lost several internal functionary devices beyond the physical shredding that his left arm and leg had._

_“Yes,” Terminus said.  “Yes, understood.  We’re on our way,” he added.  “That was Roller—they’re about to jump, we have to hurry!”  Terminus said, grabbing Megatron’s right arm._

_They entered the partially demolished room where the nearest matter transporter was and it was empty._

_“ **Rodimus**!”  Megatron cried.  “Why aren’t they………..?”  Then he looked at Terminus.   “This **isn’t** a game………..where are they?”  He asked, snapping lightly at his old friend._

_“You can do so much more here,” Terminus murmured.  “If you go back…………..you’ll be dead in a short time.”_

_“Don’t you understand?  I’ve **already accepted** that,” Megatron snapped.   “You can’t force me to leave the one I love and the crew who gave me a second chance!”   His face softened.  “ **Please** …….you can’t force me to leave Rodimus, he’s the one who made me want to live again………. **to live my life to the very most**!”_

_Terminus pointed.  “That one, over there…..” he muttered, looking away from Megatron._

_Megatron focused his determination and ran for the other matter transporter………….faster than he’s ever run before._

_Meanwhile…………….._

_Rodimus was on his knees, facing the wall.   He couldn’t believe Megatron would do this…………. **not again**.  He’d hoped they were on the way to making up—he really **thought** they were._

_“If you’re going to go, you need to go **now**!”  Clicker said, anxiously, typing away at the control panel of the matter transporter._

_“Everyone, move it!”  Megatron yelled, rushing in and grabbing Rodimus off the floor in a hurry.  He tossed Rodimus over his shoulder and ran to the transporter platform._

_“I thought you…………………………” Rodimus sobbed._

_“Shhhhhhhhhhhh. **Later** ,” Megatron sighed.  “I’ll tell you later.”_

_In a few moments, they were back on the Necrobot’s world……..and Brainstorm assured them that Killmaster’s wand worked perfectly and got them back to their own universe.  Megatron dismissed himself—and Rodimus, since the younger Cybertronian was still hefted over his shoulder—to speak privately with his sparkmate.  Megatron left Ultra Magnus to explain everything that just happened and to find out what had happened in their absence.   He found them a small and empty room and then finally set Rodimus back onto his feet._

_“I thought you were going to stay,” Rodimus pouted._

_“I won’t deny there would be benefits to remaining behind…I could finally do something I set out to do long ago,” Megatron said.  “I could have been the leader and planned the rebellion that I had originally wanted to do.  It would’ve been a great temptation to anyone in my situation…it **was** a temptation to me.”_

_Rodimus stared at the floor, at the space, between them.  Megatron reached for his hands and held them, lovingly._

_“But **you** would not be there,” Megatron said, softly, squeezing Rodimus hands.  “And without you, my lust for living again would never be the same.  Life would become all work and no joy.   I don’t care if my end will result in my death, I want to spend all the time with you that I can until that moment.”_

_Rodimus tried to start speaking several times.  It was hard to get the words he wanted to say out there.  But finally, he was able to say **something** ………….._

_“I don’t want you to die,” Rodimus whispered, his voice full of pain and anguish.  “I don’t want you to leave me……………….”_

_Megatron smiled and lowered his head to touch Rodimus’.  He let go of Rodimus’ hands and cupped his face.  “Activate your avatar, **right now** …………” he whispered passionately._

_“W—what???” Rodimus gasped, embarrassment flooding his circuits with sudden heat._

_“Do you never believe me when I say how cute you are, when you’re **vulnerable** like this?” Megatron chuckled.   “Avatar, please……………I want to show you just how seriously I am in love with you,” he said with a soft teasing tone in his deep voice.  “I can say the words and I can embrace you in our natural forms………but only the human method of lovemaking seems to capture the exact essence of both passion and love that I want to give you.  To prove to you that I would do **absolutely** **anything** to win your Spark…even compromise my old, long-standing beliefs.”_

_“You’re such a **perv** , old man……………” Rodimus murmured with a soft chuckle in his voice.  He activated his avatar and let Megatron do anything and everything he wanted to do to him for the next few hours…………_

 

            “All right,” Megatron murmured, letting go of Rodimus and holding him at arm’s length to gaze fondly down at him.  “I should let you go get some sleep.  I’ll gather some of the others and we’ll discuss our next step in trying to get our ship back.”

            Rodimus chuckled and looked up at his sparkmate.   “Ratchet suggested, rather jokingly, that we should do something calmer together—like read a book.   But, now that I think of it, I rather like that idea.   We should read a book together sometime………………” he murmured.

            “What kind of book?”  Megatron asked, curiously, smiling.  He remembered seeing some of the books listed on Rodimus’ reader-tablet back on the ship and thought that he wouldn’t mind reading a few of them.

            “I’ll let you know when I have some ideas,” Rodimus responded.  “I’ll go get some sleep, so that I can focus better.”   With that, Rodimus walked off, looking for a small room with a recharge slab inside.

            Not more than a minute after Rodimus walked away from him, Megatron suddenly found himself confronted by Drift.   Which, he had to admit to himself, was _not unexpected_ …given what just happened on the Functionist Cybertron.

            “I think you know what I want to discuss with you,” Drift said, calmly.

            “Mmmmm,” Megatron murmured with a nod.  “I was _not_ going to leave, Terminus tried to force me to stay by not telling me you had to change matter transporters.”

            “I hope you realize that every single time you do this to him, I’m going to _threaten_ you,” Drift responded, not moving and not changing his gaze.  “And I do not mean it as an **_idle_** threat.   I _still_ love Rodimus…but I made the mistake of not cherishing him above everything else.  I’m trying to stop _you_ from making that very same mistake.   I _won’t_ see him hurt and lost again,” the old warrior said in a very even and quiet voice.  “All my life—as a Decepticon or as an Autobot—I’ve never stood a chance against you, but for Rodimus I would take on the risk of my own life to take you down if you screw things up with him.”

            “I understand perfectly, Drift,” Megatron said, in the same quiet voice that Drift was using.

            “When I was eventually assigned to Earth by Autobot High Command, I was assigned to the Asian regions.  I spent a lot of time in Japan,” Drift said, his posture relaxing.  “In many ways, Spectralist tenets have similarity to Zen Buddhism methods…I studied that Earth religion, as well as becoming intrigued by the classic Japanese samurai.  Because I used blades, I found an interest in the ways of the samurai and adopted some of that culture into my own.  Adhering to Spectralism as my native religion…….absorbing the ideas I admired from Zen Buddhism and the samurai…………..and stabbing the Spark of the one I loved—I decided to find my peace and become the person that Rodimus had always _believed_ me to be.  Because he can no longer be mine, I shall keep my love to myself………….however, the samurai culture had a thing that I admired and that is what I have chosen to adhere to.”

            “Loyalty,” Megatron said, accessing what he had learned of various Earth cultures when he had once conquered that world.

            “ ** _Loyalty_**.   The samurai gave their all to their lords…and I think in that way, their loyalty must have often contained the passion of love.   I don’t believe a samurai could be wholly loyal to their masters without loving them.  I have _chosen_ to make Rodimus my master and I will serve him as a samurai would serve his lord,” Drift explained.  “That means I will protect him from _any threat_.  Even if that threat may eventually become _you_.”

            “Drift…I would not expect anything less from you,” Megatron chuckled.

 

*     *     *      *     *

 

            Most Cybertronians had 5-6 hour sleep cycles, on the average.  When injured, a Cybertronian _could_ remain in sleep mode for up to 12 hours.   Longer than that would often be a cause for concern of some deep, internal injury.   In tandem to that, many Cybertronians chose not to dream.   With a mere 5 hour sleep cycle on the average, it was often too long for a Cybertronian to engage in a downtime fantasy.  When Cybertronians wished to dream, it was when they had short sleep cycles…2-3 hours maximum, essentially the length of most vid-plays.   Dreams were a way of just releasing from the stress of the waking world for a few hours, to recharge and be ready for a new wake cycle.   True sleep cycles were often dreamless, in order to focus on a full recharge of a Cybertronian’s systems.

            **_THIRTY HOURS_** for a sleep cycle was absolutely unheard of and would cause concern, if it were not for the orders of the doctor who recommended a long sleep cycle, so self-repair functions could work uninterrupted as the body recharged itself.

            But after 30 hours, Rodimus felt it should be enough to fix all his internal systems and get some long-needed rest, which he had not had since Getaway mutinied and stole the ship…….abandoning Rodimus and the others here on Censerre of the High-Ceilinged Manifold’s claimed world, aka “the Necrobot’s world”.  Rodimus was one of those Cybertronians who usually chose to never dream while in rest cycle.   Mostly because he was afraid of what his mind may call “entertainment”.  He was afraid of experiencing old, _sad_ memories…which permeated his life over the few million years he’s been around.   No dream he had would ever be a “good” one, to him…after all, he was the hardest on his own self.   The old ego he had was merely a cloak, it was never the real “Hot Rod” or “Rodimus” that so many people knew.  No one ever knew of the pain so deeply entrenched in his Spark.   It was not to say his mind sometimes didn’t circumvent that prerogative, he dreamed on occasion……but _never_ because he chose to.

            Maybe that’s why waking up right then surprised him so much…………………..

            “Hey…………… ** _hey_**!”  A familiar voice called, lightly rapping Rodimus on the side of his head.  “Come on.  I know stasis-sleep can make you groggy and confused, but you’re supposed to have been up hours ago.”

            Rodimus’ optics cleared and he looked up, a little confused by whom he saw.  _Drift?_    But it was Drift the way he was a long time ago…when he first left the Decepticons.  Still the primary white shade on his chassis, but race stripes and runner designs that were black and dark blue.   He also had his two swords, but they were in sheaths in an x-shape across his back…not at his sides.  That was not the way the Drift he knew had _ever_ worn his swords.   He did not have his _greatsword_ , either……………

            “Drift…?  What’s wrong…….where’s……….?” Rodimus trailed off, trying to sit up and wavering.  Drift put a steady hand on his shoulder, looking at him with great puzzlement.

            “I should go get Ratchet, I think something’s wrong with your systems,” Drift sighed, patting Rodimus’ shoulder and walking away.

            Rodimus looked around the unfamiliar room.  It was a mid-sized stasis chamber.  There were various pods set into the wall…Rodimus hadn’t seen a room like this in a _very_ long time.  Stasis pods were used on _old_ ships, _really old ships_ , the ones that went on long voyages out into the universe.  Green lights were on a couple more of them, meaning they were yet occupied by Cybertronians………but most had red lights on them, meaning they were empty.   Cybertronians on long galactic voyages on the old ships used stasis chambers like this to swap out crew members every hundred years and prevent wear-down and cabin fever amongst the crew.

            What was going on here?   What happened to Necroworld and where was _Megatron_?   _Why_ did Drift look like his _old_ self?   Rodimus glanced at his arms and legs and noted that his own chassis design looked different.  It looked like his _old_ design, from his days in Nyon…as a racer.  He grasped his head, trying to make sense of all this.  Was he _dreaming_ all this?  He _specifically_ had always set his system to never dream when he was in recharge mode.   If he really _was_ dreaming, then………..?   Why did things look _familiar_ …………..yet so _different_?  So…………. _old_ ……?   And why did it _feel real_?

            His head was killing him and there was a feeling of emptiness in the body…as if he were not really _there_.  He could access body functions, such as moving and arm or a leg, but he _could not feel_ the movement of that limb.  Something was absolutely _wrong_ and he couldn’t figure out what that was………….

            “…………..like I said, something is wrong with him,” Drift’s voice was saying as he and Ratchet came back into the stasis room.

            Even _Ratchet_ had his older design……..a more streamlined design that made him look a bit younger than the Ratchet that Rodimus knew.   Suddenly it hit him…that _empty_ feeling…………..

            He _didn’t_ belong here.   He knew it now.  _Wherever_ this was……………..he did _not_ belong here!   Was this _another_ alternative universe?  Had Brainstorm been messing around with the remnants of Killmaster’s teleporter wand or the geobomb the Galactic Council had planted on Necroworld?   Even this body that he was in—it _was_ his, but it _wasn’t_ his.   His mind was inside a body belonging to an _alternative self_ …………and it was………

            Ratchet would figure that out in a moment.   Drift wasn’t a doctor…or any kind of medical official of any sort.  _He_ wouldn’t know.  _He_ wouldn’t be able to detect the signs.

            “Ratchet……………what happened before I……………went into stasis?”  Rodimus asked, softly.   “And, _uh_ ………..I think you want Drift to leave the room………………” he added, waving his hand dismissively.

            “You don’t remember the incursion on Nebulos?” Ratchet inquired curiously.  “Drift…patient confidentiality.   Please go up to the bridge and tell Optimus that Hot Rod won’t be able to take his shift anytime soon.”   He waved Drift away, who obediently left the room.

            Proving this _definitely_ wasn’t his universe.   Drift… _his Drift_ …would be hovering and, in the end, pissing Ratchet off with his hovering.   And then _that_ sealed it……………Ratchet calling him _“Hot Rod”_.   Wherever he was…he was _not_ …………………. _and this body was_ ………………..

            Rodimus curled his legs up and buried his head on his knees, covering his head with his arms.

            “Hot Rod…what’s wrong?”  Ratchet asked, kindly.

            Not _his_ Ratchet……….who would be frustratingly sarcastic as he asked that.   That meant…probably here there was still a _war_.   Rodimus was _so far away_ from everyone he cared about right now…………..and his own emptiness echoed the dead feeling of this body he was suddenly in.

            “Go ahead and look………….but in a moment you’re going to tell me that…………” Rodimus began, raising his head to see a medi-scanner in Ratchet’s hand.

            “You’re _dead_ ,” Ratchet murmured.   “That body _isn’t alive_ anymore.”

            “Yeah…………….and _this_ isn’t actually my body, either.  This _‘Hot Rod’_ , your crew member, he’s dead.   The me that’s in here………………I’m not from _this_ universe,” Rodimus answered.

            “I’d better go get Cerebros,” Ratchet sighs.  “A dead person that wasn’t moving, I can deal with…but a dead person that’s still acting like its alive is _beyond_ my medical abilities.”  Ratchet shook his head.  “And I definitely cannot deal with a dead person saying he’s alive but not from this universe.”   The medical officer walked over to a communicator panel on the far wall.  “Cerebros…?   Would you come to the stasis room?  I need your assistance with Hot Rod.”

            About five minutes later, Cerebros came into the stasis pod room.  He walked over to where Ratchet was standing next to Rodimus on a revival slab.   Curiously, he took a glance over Rodimus entirely and then folded his arms over his chest.   The facial shield blocked an expression with a mouthpiece, but Rodimus could see puzzlement lighting his blue optics.

            “I’m here………….. _why_?”  Cerebros asked, shaking his head.

            “Hot Rod is apparently dead and the consciousness that’s inside of him says he’s not from this universe,” Ratchet says.  “Honestly, I can’t deal with that…it’s beyond my medical abilities.   All I can tell you for certain is that _Hot Rod’s body is dead_ ……..his Spark signature is gone and the circuitry is not acting under any sort of power that I can detect.”

            “That’s certainly an interesting statement,” Cerebros chuckled.  “Hot Rod…….. _are_ you dead?”

            “Can I be honest here?” Rodimus asked.  Cerebros nodded.  “ _Hot Rod’s_ dead…………Ratchet’s instruments are right.  I can _feel_ it.  I can’t quite understand how I can move the body, though.  But _I’m_ not from here…….I’m from an alternate universe.  The war’s over, pretty much.   And I’m on a ship looking for the Knights of Cybertron.  My name’s _‘Rodimus’_ …………….I haven’t been called _‘Hot Rod’_ in a very long time now.”

            “Rodimus?”  Cerebros echoed.  “Are you a _Prime_ , then?”

            Rodimus hesitated.  He _wished_ he could say he was.  Even saying the name to himself seemed so very silly now, but he still _never_ wanted to go back to Hot Rod.  _Never_ that name again.  “No.  But I _am_ the captain of the ship I’m on,” he answered.  It would be too confusing to bring up Megatron, the “co-captain” thing and all of that right now.  “We’ve had a stressful situation recently and I wound up needing to put myself into recharge mode.  I was going to sleep for about thirty hours, but then I woke up and was…………. _here_ ,” he added, shaking his head.

            “Mind if I look inside?”  Cerebros asked with a chuckle.

            Rodimus reflexively placed a hand to the back of his neck.  The Cerebros of _his_ universe was a brain surgeon, but _not_ a mnemosurgeon.   What was _this one_?  Was there even mnemosurgery in this universe….?

            “ _That’s_ an interesting reaction,” Cerebros laughed, pointing at Rodimus’ neck.

            “No, it’s just…………….in _my_ universe, when someone wants to mess with your brain it’s usually mnemosurgery and a lot of people feel uncomfortable with that……………..” Rodimus murmured, removing his hand from his neck and kind of shaking it absently, because he didn’t know what to do with it now.

            “You?”  Cerebros asked, curiously.  Ratchet was getting more confused at how comfortably and easily the two seemed to be talking to each other.

            “Yes………….and no.   I mean:  _not really_ , but I think I might maybe freak out over it.  Chromedome’s had to mess with my head once…I’m sure it wasn’t pleasant to him either.   And………….won’t _this_ brain be kind of………….dead?”  Rodimus asked, getting confused.

            “ _That’s_ what I’m curious about,” Cerebros chuckled.  “I wonder how _your_ consciousness can be inside of a dead body.  There must be _something_ tethering you to it, somehow……….”

            Rodimus nodded and reached up to remove the helmet portion of his headcasing, so that Cerebros could open it up and look at the brain module.   This universe’s Cerebros made a lot of murmurs to himself as he examined the brain module in depth.   Rodimus just couldn’t figure out what this was and what happened to him.     _How_ could he be……..animating a corpse?    And just how long had this universe’s Hot Rod been dead?

            “Ratchet……..who removed me from stasis?”  Rodimus asked, head still bowed with Cerebros looking inside his head, so his voice was a little muffled.

            “Let’s see………….who’s the duty officer right now?   I think it was Prowl.   He would’ve been the one sent down to oversee shift changes, so he would’ve taken you from stasis and put you out on the revival slab to wake up,” Ratchet answered, he picked up a datapad over by the door and flipped through screens to find out the status of crew in the stasis chambers.  “The sign-in confirms that,” he added as he saw Prowl’s neat signature on the “removed from stasis recently” list.

            In his own universe, Prowl probably would’ve been very happy to see a little bit of sabotage happen.   He was cold and calculating and he would not hesitate to take a Cybertronian’s life, Autobot or Decepticon, if it meant that the end justified the means in his progression of logic.   But he _didn’t_ know what _this_ universe’s Prowl was like.   Clearly _this_ universe’s Ratchet was a little kinder, not as cranky.   This universe’s Prowl could very well be the happiest ‘bot in the universe.   He also had a stray thought about why Drift may have been in the room when he woke up in Hot Rod’s body—if Prowl was the one who took the rotating crew members from stasis………….why was Drift in there checking on Hot Rod?

            “Was I the only one taken from stasis to wake up recently?”  Rodimus asked even further.   He wasn’t Nightbeat, but he could try to do some simple deductions at any rate.

            “Mmmmmmm…….let me see,” Ratchet murmured.  His voice sounded even further away to Rodimus, when he finally responded—so, he must’ve walked over to check all the other stasis pods near the walls.   “Looks like four other crew members were woken up around the time you were.   Hound, Jetfire, Outback and Grapple.  Log says Drift was down here to find out why you hadn’t reported to the bridge yet.”

            “How are they?   Are they all doing well?”  Rodimus added to his list of questions.   Every answer brought so many more questions to him.   But at least the one about Drift had been answered.

            “I saw Hound and Grapple on the bridge, not too long ago,” Ratchet responded.  “They seemed normal.”

            Rodimus stopped to think about things—about everything that had seemed to have happened to him right now.   **_So._**    He, his consciousness and personality, was somehow tethered to an alternative version of himself.   An alternative version that was _dead_.   Was he killed……or did he die naturally?   _That_ was the really big question right now.   Also, the biggest of all the questions, what was Rodimus doing here and what was he supposed to do here?

            “I _think_ I’m maybe here to find a traitor you have aboard your ship,” Rodimus suddenly said, coming to only one particular conclusion.  “I can’t imagine I’m animating a corpse for any other reason than to find out who killed your Hot Rod.   I think I’m going to need the short version of your journey and know if other people have died unexpectedly on it.”

            “He _may_ be right, Ratchet,” Cerebros said, finally closing up Rodimus’ headcasing and patting him on the back to signal he was done.   “The brain module is completely dead, as well…however, what _Rodimus_ is doing in there—from whatever universe he came from—is allowing him to access body functions and that’s about it.  He truly is _‘animating a corpse’_.”

            “You two are awfully calm about this situation,” Ratchet sighs, shaking his head in bewilderment.

            “I’ve seen some………………..pretty bizarre stuff in my adventures the past five years,” Rodimus answered with a wry chuckle.

            “It’s strange, yes, but I’ve always felt that things happen for a reason,” Cerebros replied, nodding lightly.  “If Hot Rod’s been killed and some god in the universe somewhere sent us Rodimus to help us prevent more deaths, then I’m all for that.”

            “In this universe………………does our race have a religion?”  Rodimus asked, curiously…noting Cerebros’ odd way of referring to a deity.   In his universe, Cybertronians developed a myriad of religions over the years, though Primalism was the foremost of all religions.

            “There’s the generic belief in good and evil with Primus and Unicron, but not many adhere to it.  They more often use it as teaching principals and morality,” Ratchet answered, a bit curious at the way Rodimus had asked the question.

            “Close to my universe’s Primalism then,” Rodimus accepted with a nod.   “Though Primalists tend to believe more in Primus as a real figure and treat Unicron as a myth.”   Ratchet cocked his head curiously at Rodimus, while Cerebros looked interested in hearing more.  “We’ve got about a dozen other religions, some mostly minor ones.   Spectralist is another big one……..my _Amica Endura_ is a Spectralist.”

            “That sounds interesting……………a best friend.  It’s been _forever_ since I’ve heard that term.  I suppose _Conjunx Endura_ is also another term prevalent in your universe,” Cerebros responds, chuckling warmly.  “And what is the Spectralist religion like?”

            “It’s very worldly, yet somehow mystical…………..there’s a great adherence to the flow of life and such.  And like, if you died, you’re basically buried in the materials at hand to make your coffin.   There’s a lot of focus on peaceful meditation and such,” Rodimus said, trying to explain it simply.   Drift had been trying to convert him, so Rodimus wasn’t 100% clear on Spectralist tenets and such.   “There’s also the Cult of Mortilus……………and its followers are quite rabid and violent, I mean since their focus is on death and all.”

            “Mmmmm………….so in _your_ universe, the Guiding Hand exists.   There have been cults speaking of the Guiding Hand on our Cybertron for as long as _I’ve_ been alive………….but they’re simply treated as cults and fanatics,” Cerebros responded, gesturing with his hands as he spoke.   “But they refer to real-life personages as the Guiding Hand, there are historical references to these great leaders and teachers…however cults have corrupted their existence to make entities of worship out of them.”

            “There are some who feel the same about it in our universe, too.  Ummmm…….. _my universe’s_ Ratchet is a huge skeptic and enjoys debunking any religion.   Though he and Drift are friends……………he constantly makes fun of Spectralism in front of Drift…………..” Rodimus trailed off.

            “ ** _Drift_** is your _Amica Endura_?” Cerebros inquired with a warm chuckle.

            Rodimus looked startled as soon as the older Autobot had said it, but then realized Cerebros was deducing it from previous statements.   He could use someone like Cerebros on his side if he was here to figure out what’s going on………….!

            “Yeah.   Drift’s my best friend.   We were much closer once, but……………things happened to keep us that much apart.  We decided to be friends in the end,” Rodimus responded with a warm smile.  “I moved on to a _new_ relationship anyways…………..and despite some pangs of jealousy, Drift’s been really supportive of my new relationship.”

            “It must be very interesting to be on your ship,” Cerebros chuckled.

            “It gets pretty crazy sometimes, but we’ve got a lot of good people on the ship and I’m happy for that,” Rodimus responded, smiling.  He tried not to think about the situation back where he should be right now—abandoned on a world by Getaway and the crew.   “Cerebros……………can I ask for your help, investigating?  Or are you busy right now?”  He asked, quietly.  “And Ratchet…………..would you mind not mentioning that I’m _dead_?”  He asked of the Autobot doctor.

            “I’ll honestly pretend _none_ of this even happened, it’s too weird to be realistic anyways,” Ratchet answered with a wry laugh, waving to the two as he left the room.

            “I’ll help you out, Rodimus…………….but for the benefit of our crew members, I’d better call you _Hot Rod_ , though,” Cerebros replied, folding his arms over his chest.   “And you _wince_ when I call you that.   It _was_ your name once, wasn’t it?”  He inquired, noticing Rodimus’ bodily twinge when he said “Hot Rod”.

            “Yeah, but……………….I really don’t like remembering _those_ days.  During the war……………too much happened and I did too many things because I had to,” Rodimus sighed.  “I leaped at the opportunity to change my name.  Someone else called me _‘Rodimus’_ ……………I’m sure to try and _flatter_ me…………..and I just got attached to it.   Now I just associate _‘Hot Rod’_ with the war and everything I wound up doing during the war.”

            “You say this…………..as if the war is over—you even mentioned it earlier?   Then real peace has been achieved in your universe?”  Cerebros asked, a bit of awe in his voice.

            “Yeah.  Kinda.  I guess,” Rodimus sighed, he kind of rubbed his temples soothingly.  “It’s an uneasy peace………….the war caused a rift between those calling themselves Autobots and Decepticons, a rift that’s really hard to bridge safely.  There are also lost colonies that have been returning to Cybertron.  Starscream’s in charge and there’s a council formed of the colony representative members.”

            “Starscream.  _Megatron’s lieutenant?_   That must be some fireworks sparking up Cybertron,” Cerebros laughed warmly.

            “Mostly fireworks between Starscream and the representative of Caminus, Windblade,” Rodimus responded, smiling and nodding.  “But…………….those fireworks are igniting something between them.   It’s _stupid_ that neither of them can seem to see that yet, but……………. _I’m_ not one to talk.”

            “You have a _Conjunx Endura_ though,” Cerebros responded, helping Rodimus down from the revival slab.

            “It wasn’t easy.  **_I_** made it difficult………….I made it difficult with Drift, too.  It’s like a part of me, the _bloodsoaked_ part, can’t believe in me having anything happy in my life,” Rodimus sighed.  He stretched and tested the limbs of the body he was inhabiting.  “We both say things……………and hurt each other…………and then passionately make up.   Then it keeps cycling like that.”

            “Then your relationship must be _very new_ ,” Cerebros chuckled warmly.  “New relationships are _always_ like that…………you spend most of the time trying to find your balance _with_ each other.  In a few years, it will all even out and your relationship will feel very natural, trust me,” he added, fondly.

            “Cerebros…………… _what are you_ , here in this universe?  I mean………… _if_ I can ask that question?”  Rodimus murmured.

            “Psychologist and psychiatrics are my specialty.   I _can’t_ do brain surgery, but I can examine the brain—both physically and then in a session through talking,” Cerebros answered, tilting his head at Rodimus.   “If a brain is physically dying, I’ll leave that to someone like Ratchet…………..but if a brain is simply _‘hurting’_ , that’s something I can help with.”  Cerebros then made a shrug with his shoulders, but he still seemed to have a posture of amusement.  “I can assess a physical brain injury, as well………….and I saw that _you_ suffered one.”

            “Oh, well _that’s_ …………….no wait, _this_ isn’t my body.  You mean…………..?” Rodimus gasped, his voice lowering to a whisper.

            “ _Mmmmm_ …………….I have a feeling that someone did damage to Hot Rod _before_ he went into stasis.  The injury was old and self-healed.   Even if he slowly died in stasis, the basic self-repair systems would probably work for a while until the body overall finally just gave out.   The injury looks only _partially_ healed,” Cerebros answered.  “I was uncertain whether to say anything with Ratchet in the room, because he might want to do an autopsy and I’m not sure how it would affect you, as a tethered personality to the body.”   Then Cerebros paused.   “However, by what you nearly answered me with there—you, _yourself_ , has suffered a brain injury.”

            Rodimus gave a wry smile.   Cerebros was good at this………..really good at listening and applying statements to situations.   “Yeah.   We had answered a distress call on the planet Injher 7………..we didn’t really expect it to be overrun by giant spiders with a taste for brains,” Rodimus said, softly.  “I got _careless_ …….which I generally _don’t_ do in actual combat situations, I might seem reckless—but I am never careless………..and a king spider got fangs into my headcasing.  If Megatron hadn’t been so fast, I…………… _oh_.  _Uh_ …………” he trailed off when Cerebros gave him a look of shock.

            “Even Megatron, then?   The peace thing?”  Cerebros asked, curiously.  “I can’t imagine he’d be settled with someone _above_ him in rank and command, though……….if he’s on _your_ ship.”

            “It’s incredibly complicated…………..he’s more or less on parole.   Most want him executed, but with the uneasy peace, a fair trial is what they’re _legitimately_ going for.   Only the Guiding Hand or Knights of Cybertron can try him, based upon the rules apparently……………..and since my ship is looking for the Knights of Cybertron, they decided that my ship would suffice as his current prison,” Rodimus explained.  But emotion colored his voice, he knew it and was sure Cerebros would pick up on it.   “People have _forgotten_ ………….the war went on so long that they forgot why Megatron started an uprising.   Even Megatron forgot why he started an uprising………………..I think if Megatron wants a second chance to try and live his life again, he _should_ be given that opportunity.”

            “The war started under different terms in your universe than ours did, apparently…………the fight has _always_ been over Energon and how it should be distributed, since Cybertron is now a low-yield planet for our life-substance,” Cerebros replied, raising his hands in a sort of shrugging gesture.

            “Ours was the Senate……. _the ruling class_.   The Functionists had just started to gain majority in the Senate and they basically tried to destroy individuality,” Rodimus murmured.  “Their tenet was that Cybertronians should be _classified_ based upon their alt modes…and if their alt mode had no real purpose or function then…………………that Cybertronian should _give up their life_ so that a more worthy person could live it.   And for many……….it became difficult for us to have our entire fate determined by what we transform into.”  Rodimus looked away, down at this universe’s Hot Rod’s limbs.  “I _hated_ being a racer…………. _I hated it_.   I can’t even begin to tell you how much I hated it.   So, if Megatron _hadn’t_ had his ideals corrupted by the Senate’s pet mnemosurgeons……I think **_I_** would’ve joined the Decepticon Cause.   He _originally_ wanted freedom from alt mode determinism and the Senate’s tyranny…just that the Senate decided to make a cruel example of him and have their favorite cop, Orion Pax, take down the planet’s greatest enemy, as they set out to make Megatron into.   They took his words and they took his desire for freedom and twisted it inside his own head, then they threw him into the gladiator pits.   The Megatron that came out of that decided to rule by tyranny.   And _that_ became the basis of the war instead.”

            “ _Mmmmm_.   The way you speak of Megatron tells me………….. _he_ is likely your _Conjunx Endura_ ,” Cerebros murmured, softly.

            “Man, you’re _really_ good at this,” Rodimus chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with a bit of embarrassment.  “Yeah, he is.   I’ve gotten to see the real Megatron—the one that existed before the war.   He’s _smart_ and _passionate_.   And _dedicated_.   Even though he knows he’s on the execution block, he’s trying to do his best to do better with the time he has left.”

            “I would almost like to have lived in your universe,” Cerebros chuckled.  “Do **_I_** exist in your universe, as well?”   He asked, greatly curious now. 

            “Yeah.   My universe’s Cerebros worked in The Institute with Chromedome, though he was not a mnemosurgeon……..only a brain surgeon.   Now he’s working on Luna I with Fortress Maximus, as part of his investigative and police team,” Rodimus said.   “I’ve met him a couple times, a nice guy……..very chatty when it comes to his work.   Very fond of puns and bad jokes when he’s not at work.   But he’s also _ridiculously_ intelligent, I’ve never met someone so smoothly smart as Cerebros.”

            “I would be willing to bet that bad jokes and puns are his hobby, since his work entails looking at brains all the time,” Cerebros chuckled.  “From a psychologist’s standpoint, _most_ people like to be the opposite of what they are at work.”   Then Cerebros clapped his hands together with some determination.  “Now, then……….shall we start our investigation?”

            “Yeah, let’s get this done!”  Rodimus responded with a huge grin. 

 

+     +     +     +     +

 

            “Optimus, sir…….” Cerebros said, humbly, as he approached the commander on the bridge.   “I have something I’d like to look into and I’m going to request that Hot Rod assist me.   He is currently unfit for normal duty, but he should be able to act in an assistance capability.”

            Rodimus was waiting by the door to the bridge area.  He really didn’t want to interact with this universe’s Optimus Prime.  He had his own _personal_ issues with his universe’s Optimus Prime and he didn’t want to make this universe’s version suspicious of him.   So he just kept glancing around the bridge and not making eye contact with anyone.   There was a mix of people here that he knew from his universe………..but they all had designs to him that were older and not quite the same as the designs they had in _his_ universe.

            Optimus looked over at Rodimus.  “Did Ratchet have a diagnosis for Hot Rod’s condition?”  He inquired, curiously.

            “Stasis fatigue,” Cerebros said, smoothly.  The best way to tell a lie was to believe the lie.   “It seems that he suffered a mild injury before he went into stasis and it was not treated.   Thus his self-repair circuitry ran so very slowly in stasis and has not quite healed him up by the time he was awakened.   Piloting requires precise steering, so it would be best if he would finish healing up before taking the helm.”   Cerebros gave a light chuckle and shrugged.   “You know how Hot Rod is……both stubborn and very kind.   He knew there were people with greater injuries than him after the incident on Nebulos, so he left it to his own self-repair systems, rather than bother an overworked medi-bay crew.”

            “Understood,” Optimus responded with a sage nod.  “Keep me apprised of your investigation,” he asked in a tone that wasn’t really a question, but an order.  Then he looked over at Rodimus.  “Hot Rod…try not to give Cerebros any trouble and make sure you get enough rest.”

            “Understood, sir,” Rodimus responded, ducking his head politely.   Rodimus took another glance around the bridge and noted the people on the bridge and who wasn’t there from the names mentioned to him earlier.  Drift wasn’t there.   He didn’t like laying suspicions on the most obvious of suspects………….but he’d have to ask Cerebros about Drift’s origins in this particular universe.   In this universe, had Drift even started out as a Decepticon named “Deadlock”, as in his own universe……….?

            Optimus Prime, Hound, Grapple, Prowl, Bluestreak and Skids were on the bridge right now…..each of them at a station around the bridge.   The bridge was actually a small area, compared to the size of the ship overall.   There wasn’t a dedicated science station, merely a console that it looked like Grapple was managing right now.  There was a dual piloting station, which Rodimus assumed that Hot Rod should have been at right now…….by what Cerebros said to Optimus Prime.   But, for now, both Prowl and Bluestreak were there.  Hound and Skids were managing various consoles on either side of the room………….possibly navigational and plotting, maybe some kind of non-scientific data crunching stuff.

            Rodimus knew that from the earlier talks with Ratchet and Cerebros……………..Jetfire and Outback were here as well.  _Drift._    Rodimus _needed_ to see a crew member listing.  He needed to know how many could potentially be aboard this ship.   And he needed to know recent missions…………..as well as how long Hot Rod had been in stasis since this “incursion on Nebulos” incident.   He was unsure what that was in this universe, but in his universe…………..Nebulos was an organic world, not unlike that Earth place, that had been subjugated a million years ago by one of Megatron’s many Decepticon commanding officers, one named “Scorponok”.  It was never freed and the people of Nebulos had been annihilated, with the planet becoming a dead husk of world…………bled dry of all its energy and minerals.

            _Would_ he be able to get back to his own place………….. _his own universe_ ……………if he solved this mystery?   Would he be stuck here _forever_ ………….?

            His friends…………………. _and Megatron_ ………………………

            Rodimus shook his head.  It would be the same as if he were back there and had lost Megatron.  If he _wasn’t_ getting back to his own place………….he’d end his life after solving this mystery here.  He wasn’t going to live on without the one he loved most, no matter what.   And he certainly _wasn’t_ going to live in a dead body!   He shook his head again, he could practically hear Megatron lecturing him about that.   It didn’t matter.  He’d do what must be done and make that decision afterwards.

            Cerebros led Rodimus back to his office and dormitory area.   Clearly it was a partitioned office with a sleeping room in the back.  It was a large ship, but most definitely it was _utility-based_.   From what he’d overheard, the ship was called “ _The Ark_ ”…….not unlike a line of ships that had been used by the Prime lineage back in his universe.  This particular ship was a deep space exploration vessel, _however_ …………Optimus Prime was using it to pursue Megatron across the universe.  It seemed to serve a dual purpose of stopping the Decepticons from plundering and to also find new sources of Energon across the universe, in general.

            “Here, Rodimus………..some basic info you might need if people talk to you.  It’s about the ship and mission, where we found Hot Rod………..as well as a current and updated crew roster.   Then I also have the field report of the incident on Nebulos for you to read as well,” Cerebros said, kindly, handing Rodimus two separate reader tablets.   “Considering half the crew has been in stasis for around a hundred years and only recently been awakened for duty, I’ve requested of Optimus that he allow me to consult with all the currently awake members of the crew.  You’ll be my secretary and greet people who come for their sessions, it will also give you a feel for the crew members.”  Cerebros sat down at his desk and began working on the computer.  “I am going to work on sending requests to the crew and in two hours we’ll begin sessions.  So you have two hours to freely read the documents I gave to you.”

            “Got it,” Rodimus said, walking over to a chair in the corner and sitting down to focus on the tablets.  He read the field report on the Nebulos incident first.

            It was not wholly unlike what had happened in his universe.  Megatron had a force on the planet, subjugating its native organic population.  However, in _this_ universe a rebellion had occurred……..and even a couple of Decepticons had aided the Nebulan rebellion.  Deadlock and Lockdown.   Could _that_ be……..?  In _his_ universe, Drift had once been known as “Deadlock”!   But these two Decepticons had assisted the organics in rebelling against the Decepticon occupying force and they held a strong resistance until the Autobots showed up and entered the fray.   It was not without cost…………with deaths and injuries on all sides, Cybertronian as well as Nebulan.  But in the end, the Autobots and Nebulans had overcome the Decepticon occupying force and freed Nebulos from the Decepticon tyranny.   Somehow, during this incident………..this was where Hot Rod had been injured and then………….somehow had encountered someone who took advantage of his injury to kill him as he went into assigned stasis.

            Rodimus sighed and then picked up the reader that had the ship information, the crew roster and the report on where Hot Rod had been discovered.  There were about 150 Autobots on board this ship………….Rodimus recognized _many_ of the names………….and then saw a number of the names were in red with a strike through the name.   So, subtracting those from the total of the roster………….there were about 121 Autobots left on board this ship.

            _Hot Rod_.   He was apparently the sole survivor of an unaffiliated colony that Optimus Prime’s ship had come across, a few decades before the incident on Nebulos.   There _wasn’t_ a Titan name associated with the colony, it merely had a _number_ —which possibly meant that Titans didn’t exist in this universe.  So………were there any of the _Primes_?  Was the _Prime Lineage_ the same?  Optimus, _here_ , had the Prime name—but was it denoting a lineage or was it simply unique to his name?  In _this_ universe, Hot Rod was a lone remainder of a slaughtered colony.  There were no details telling whether the colony had been attacked by Decepticons or if some other tragedy happened.  And it sounds like Hot Rod was not very forthcoming on himself.  He was very friendly, but not excessively talkative about himself and his past.

            “Cerebros………….did Hot Rod ever speak to you?  You know…………about his life before he was found and brought aboard?”  Rodimus asked.

            “He had just the general talk sessions with me, the minimal amount required by Optimus Prime aboard the ship,” Cerebros answered, looking up from his computer monitor.  “He seemed almost sad when he’d talk to me…I felt like he _wanted_ to talk about what happened, but he could never bring himself to do it.  I feel like he pretended to be friendly and cheerful, because he didn’t want people to pry into his past—nor did he want to bring people down.”

            “Yeah, _that_ sounds about right.  If his life paralleled mine in some ways then…………I think he had a _sparkmate_ he lost when his colony was decimated,” Rodimus murmured.  If it were true………..Hot Rod _probably_ had Blaze and he was devoted to Blaze.  And, if it were true, then like himself…………Hot Rod had also probably assumed a personality not his own, to hide his pain and grief from those around him.  “He probably had good friends he lost, as well.”

            “You think he may have had similarities to your own life, then?”  Cerebros inquired, curiously.

            “I think so,” Rodimus sighed.  “ ** _I_** was like that once………..open, friendly and cheerful—then I lost a sparkmate a long time ago.  To protect myself from that pain, I _pretended_ to be someone else.  I took on the personality of the one I lost,” he answered.  “The sad thing is………..I can’t remember a damn thing about him, because when I got my brain injury—every single moment surrounding him was lost to me.   And that meant I lost the personality I’d assumed as well.  It was hard to go back to being _‘me’_ , because I had no idea who Hot Rod was anymore………….I had no idea who Rodimus should be.”

            “Parallel lives…………..some differences, some similarities, it’s very fascinating,” Cerebros chuckled.

            “You have no idea what’s different in my universe!” Rodimus laughed.  “Having Megatron on board my ship has changed things.   He really _is_ brilliant…………and I don’t say that just because of personal things.  Something he did when he came aboard was to teach classes.”

            “ _Teach_?”  Cerebros said, a tone of great surprise in his voice.

            “In my universe…………..a lot of things came about differently.  Have you ever heard of the terms _‘forged’_ and _‘constructed cold’_?”  Rodimus began, pushing his chair across the floor to sit near Cerebros and speak in a softer voice.

            “I cannot say that I have,” Cerebros answered, shaking his head.

            “In my universe…………….Sparks that were birthed naturally were a _finite_ resource on Cybertron.  But with a war that was consuming lives on both sides and leaders who had ideas of spreading Cybertron across the galaxy, a technology called _‘spark-splicing’_ came about.  Pieces of Sparks—usually offered voluntarily, but not always—were shaved off from others and artificially grown to become a _new_ Spark,” Rodimus explained.   “The new Sparks were housed in specially constructed bodies………bodies _designed_ for war.  There are some………….. _unpleasant feelings_ all around on this subject.  But because war consumed our race…………over time new Cybertronians come to life by this method were not given classes on what it was to be a _Cybertronian_.   Most could not recite any history……….and the academies that once existed had only taught war in their times.   Now that the war is over…………it’s difficult for these made-to-order soldiers to find a _normal_ idea of existence.   And Megatron feels that teaching any who _want to learn_ what it means to be Cybertronian…….our past, our religions and so forth……..will help make us all _better_.”

            “Ah, now _that_ is a great idea,” Cerebros said with a chuckle.  “We could certainly use something like that here.  But, as you said……………. _war can consume._   And there seems to be nothing beyond the war anymore, for any of us.  I feel that’s why so many groups broke away and founded colonies.  Hot Rod _chose_ the Autobot brand when he came aboard, but he did _not_ originally wear it.”

            “I have another odd question……………is there the Galactic Council or Black Box Consortia in this universe?”  Rodimus asked.

            “I have no idea what the second one is, but there’s a galactic peacekeeping council…….I think they call themselves the Unity of Worlds,” Cerebros answered.  “They cater primarily to organic species, but there are a few robotic species among them.  Cybertron has been too busy with our war, for either side to decide to join them.  Basically they promote peace and will sometimes use a little bit of force to save worlds in danger.”

            “ _Mmmmmm_ ,” Rodimus murmured.

            “Problem?”  Cerebros asked.

            “No.  Not really.  But if this were, like, _my_ universe, I could see a group like the Black Box Consortia slaughtering Hot Rod’s colony,” Rodimus responded, slumping backwards into his chair with a sigh.  “Like the Galactic Council, they absolutely despise Cybertronians………….but where the Council will put on a professional face and do things by the book, the Black Box Consortia will slaughter us on sight.”

            “So there is darkness in your universe as well,” Cerebros sighed.

            “You can’t blame groups like the Galactic Council…………..they formed to protect worlds from our war, because back then Megatron was trying to build an empire that spanned the galaxy—ironically the same things that Zeta Prime and Sentinel Prime were trying to do.  And the Autobots, though trying to do what was _right_ ……………they often overlooked organics in their bid to stop the Decepticons,” Rodimus said, softly.  “They’re often small and _quiet_ to us…………it’s hard for us to notice them, but…………..”

            “It’s true,” Cerebros said.  “We _never_ had a clue about Nebulos………….not until Lockdown had gotten a coded message out that we intercepted.”

            “So…………..is Drift…………. _was_ he known as Deadlock then?  And if so………….what happened to Lockdown?”  Rodimus asked, very curious about the situation.

            “He was called Deadlock in _your_ universe, too?  He started out as a Decepticon, then?”  Cerebros chuckled.  “Yes.  Drift was formerly a Decepticon known as Deadlock.  After the incident on Nebulos and Lockdown was killed, he made a request for asylum with Optimus Prime.   Given that he and Lockdown were the ones helping the Nebulans fight back against the Decepticons, Optimus felt it was safe to give him a shot on our side.  He changed his name to _‘Drift’_ , to forge a new start in his life.”  Then Cerebros looked at his time table on the desktop of his computer and made a motion towards the door, handing Rodimus a datapad.  “It’s about time to get to work.  Greet people and let them in as I am ready for each individual.   Feel free to chat with them, it might give you a feeling of each Autobot’s character.”

 

+     +     +     +     +

 

            “So they’ve got you doing secretary duty, now?”  Jetfire chuckled when Rodimus greeted him.

            “For _now_.  I’m not completely up to doing the piloting stuff yet,” Rodimus chuckled, _hoping_ he sounded like Hot Rod in his response.

            “I only _just_ woke up recently as well.  So I know the feeling.  I was _so glad_ to be able to get back to my lab,” Jetfire responded with a smile, as he pressed a finger against the datapad Rodimus held up.  It was a touch verification for his session with Cerebros, as all the others before him had done.  “A culture experiment I had going _before_ the Nebulos incident was a colossal failure, since nobody realized I was still running it,” Jetfire laughed.  “Well, if you want something done _right_ , you have to do it _yourself_!”  Then he looked very seriously down at Rodimus.  “Listen, next time…….if you _do_ get injured, make sure you get treated before going into stasis, all right?  Stasis slows down _all_ your functions, including self-repair.  It might make the injury worse.”

            “Sorry, I really just didn’t want to be a bother to anyone in the medi-bay,” Rodimus apologized.

            “ _Minerva_ probably could’ve treated you,” Jetfire said.  “Ratchet and First Aid don’t really give her enough to do.  I know she’s still _in training_ , but if your injury was minor…..she could’ve looked at it.  Just because she identifies as a _‘female’_ , according to organic classifications……..it doesn’t mean she is any less skilled than those who identify as _‘male’_ amongst us,” he added, firmly.

            “ _Oh!_    Don’t worry………..I’d _never_ single her out for that!”  Rodimus gasped, honestly.  He had several who identified as “female” aboard his own vessel…………….not just those from _Caminus_.    It seemed likely that Anode was going to join up with them, she’d been showing great curiousity about their quest………..she was _Cybertronian_.  And so was Arcee, though Rodimus had rarely ever interacted with that soldier-turned-assassin.  “I just didn’t want to bother anyone…………and maybe……….no, never mind.”  Rodimus stopped himself, shaking his head.   Hot Rod _could_ have chosen to go into stasis injured, as well…………if he happened to be sad enough to miss Blaze—if that partnership really existed here—Rodimus realized that Hot Rod could’ve chosen an odd form of suicide.

            “Well, just take it easy for now, Hot Rod…… _don’t worry_ ,” Jetfire said with a warm smile as the previous patient exited Cerebros’ discussion chamber and he waved for Jetfire to enter.

            Rodimus stepped out into the hallway and went to call the next person in.  He glanced at the list.  “ _Bumblebee_?  Looks like you’re next after Jetfire……..come on in for the forms processing,” Rodimus said, smiling……….as Cerebros instructed him to do as a temporary secretary.

            Bumblebee looked at Rodimus in surprise.  “Oh, _Hot Rod_ …………..you’re awake?”  He asked, his voice sounding a little tense as he walked over to be escorted into the office.

            Rodimus did not know what, but the tone in Bumblebee’s voice sent off a lot of alarms inside of him.   In _his_ universe, Bumblebee had been an old friend of Optimus Prime’s—a generally cheerful Autobot.  He’d gotten serious after the chaos incident on Cybertron, but Hot Rod had never heard such a strange mix of both surprise _and_ tense in his voice.

            “Yeah, but Ratchet says I’m not yet fit for duty…………so Optimus Prime assigned me to assist Cerebros in staff evaluations,” Rodimus said, very carefully.   He had no idea what the relationship between Hot Rod and Bumblebee in _this_ universe was like………….but the tone in Bumblebee’s voice _did not_ convey friendship.  In fact, it conveyed something like……………….. _annoyance_.

            “Well, hopefully you’ll be all right _soon_ , then,” Bumblebee said, curtly, walking over to the seating area and sitting down with a thunk, crossing his arms with annoyance.   It was clear that the conversation between them was over.

            Rodimus inwardly sighed.   Clearly in _this_ universe, Hot Rod and Bumblebee had no love for each other.  Rodimus began to wonder…….….and let his mind wander……….. _could_ Hot Rod have known of his brain injury and chosen suicide by slow death in stasis?  Cerebros said that sometimes Hot Rod seemed very sad.   While Rodimus can’t remember Blaze in his universe whatsoever, if Blaze existed for Hot Rod here— _it had great meaning_.   Because the one thing Rodimus did know about Blaze…………is that their relationship changed his entire life when he had been declared dead.  Rodimus _knew_ he went looking for, _and never found_ , his sparkmate—and when he returned to Cybertron, he had _assumed_ Blaze’s personality.  As _penance_?  As _retribution_?  _For love?_   Because Rodimus couldn’t remember at all, he couldn’t remember _why_ he became Blaze.   And _everyone_ hated Blaze………..they hated the _personality of Blaze_ that Rodimus had assumed.

            If he had still been the old, _original_ Hot Rod that he had been once……………… _would_ he have had a relationship with Drift by now?  He never knew what it was about him that had appealed to Drift, because it wasn’t until after the chaos incident on Cybertron that they had become close.  It seemed _very quick_ , Drift was _pushy_ ………….but nowhere near the level of Megatron’s pushiness of relationship.  But, even so…………….he and Drift could still _never_ truly open up to each other.  How many times had he punched Drift for coming on to him………….and he’d been under the influence of _syk_?  _That_ just disgusted him, the using of drugs………….it was the one single thing he _hated_ about Drift, that Drift couldn’t move beyond the use of circuit-speeders to curb his homicidal tendencies—he couldn’t believe in his own self-worth and self-control.   And Drift _probably_ hated Rodimus’ annoying, egotistical personality.   They couldn’t move _beyond_ that…………they couldn’t change the way they were for each other.  It made Rodimus a little sad.

            He was with _Megatron_ now, yes.  And he _loved_ Megatron with all of his Spark.   But seeing Drift now, clean of all drug use………………….Drift _appealed_ to him and he felt comfortable around Drift.  _Amica Endura_ would have to suffice, because Rodimus was _not_ going into an open relationship and he was _not_ parting from Megatron.   And if everything he’d seen just a week ago, before they went to the Functionist Cybertron, was true about Drift…………..Rodimus’ sudden _vulnerability_ was incredibly appealing to the old warrior.  It must be hard to have to let that go and just endure mere friendship instead.

            “I was _never_ that vulnerable, was I?” Rodimus murmured to himself.   Even Megatron had said it………and that’s what led to the sleeping situation that he woke up from………….. _here_.  Megatron was _entranced_ by Rodimus’ sudden vulnerability and _used that_ to tease and flirt with Rodimus on a constant and daily basis.  “It’s not that I mind………….. _really_ …………” he sighed, softly.

            “Are you _sure_ you’re all right?   You’ve been mumbling to yourself for the last few minutes,” Jetfire said, cutting into Rodimus’ thoughts.

            “ _ACK!_ ”  Rodimus jumped when Jetfire’s very large presence and words cut into his personal thoughts.  “Sorry.   _Sorry_ ………….Bumblebee wasn’t very chatty, so I was kind of on my own to converse with,” he said, apologetically, scooping up the datapad and walking to the door with Jetfire.

            “Really?   I thought you two got along okay?”  Jetfire said, a little bit of surprise in his deep voice.

            “I felt like he was mad with me, so I just didn’t try to talk with him,” Rodimus sighed.

            “Hot Rod………….. _have_ you talked with Cerebros?   Maybe you should.  You seem sad and a bit lost,” Jetfire responded, softly.  “You’ve always had a bit of sadness about you, but that could be because of being the only survivor of your colony.  But this sadness seems a little hopeless now……………bitter and acidic.”

            It was _bleeding_ through…………..Rodimus’ worry about being so far away from his home and the ones he loved.  People were beginning to see it.   He had to _focus_.  Focus on what needed to be done and let fate play out the rest of the script.

            “I guess I’m just a bit out of sorts and I don’t know what to do, yet,” Rodimus answered, vaguely but _hoping_ he sounded like Hot Rod.  He couldn’t afford to let anything slip………….not while there could still possibly be danger here on this ship.   He didn’t know all the dynamics, personal or otherwise, on this ship………and he didn’t know enough about Hot Rod—who seemed _similar_ , but _different_.  Like everyone else on the ship.  His lack of knowledge could lead to mistakes.   Or worse.

            After kindly saying goodbye to Jetfire, Rodimus looked down at the datapad to see who was next.  “Waverider?  Looks like you’re next……..come on in to fill out forms and wait,” Rodimus said, glancing down the hallway at the Cybertronians lingering around, chatting with one another.

 

+     +     +     +     +

 

            “Are you sure, Rodimus?”  Cerebros asked, a bit of concern toning his voice.

            “Yeah,” he replied.  “I can’t really feel that this body is tired, probably because it _can’t_ be…………I may as well walk around and see if I can get a better handle on people I didn’t see here today,” Rodimus added, waving at Cerebros as he left the psychiatrist’s office.

            Rodimus walked down the corridors, but _this late_ at the shifts………there didn’t seem to be many people wandering about.  It was probably a _minimal crew_ at this shift cycle and most Cybertronians were resting on their recharge slabs.  On ships…………especially ones in space for a long time………..there really wasn’t a set “day cycle” or “night cycle”—it was even hard to keep a sense of time without suns or stars to track.   Rodimus had worked with Ultra Magnus to set a day-night cycle on the _Lost Light_ , days before they even launched the ship.  Rodimus thought it would give the crew a sense of “normal” to have a time period classified as “day” and one classified as “night”…………so at “night” on the _Lost Light_ , the lights were set at a dimmer mode and certain shops that were only open “in the daytime” were closed during a night-cycle.   Likewise, areas that had been designated as an active “nightlife” spot………such as **_Visages_** (the drink and dance bar)…….were open primarily throughout the night cycle onboard the ship.

            Here on _this_ ship, it seemed fairly similar—without the bar and nightlife spots, though.   Rodimus figured that Optimus Prime had likely done the same thing as he had.  It would give Cybertronians a grounding in reality to have a day-night cycle with which to determine when they should enter a sleep mode.   As Rodimus walked down the corridor, he saw Drift staring out a window at the stars and space.  He wondered how long the former Decepticon had been there…….?

            “Are you all right, Drift?”  Rodimus asked, softly, so as not to disturb him too much.   He also didn’t know how close the two of them had been here in this reality, so he didn’t want to be overly friendly.

            “Ah, Hot Rod,” Drift responded, turning his head towards Rodimus and giving a soft little smile.  “I’m fine, things are normal,” he added, in answer to Rodimus’ question.

            Rodimus could hear the tone of sadness in Drift’s voice.   He didn’t want to question it, but………

            “You sound _sad_ , Drift,” he said, just to get it out there.

            “ _You_ should know.   Sadness is just another state in life,” he sighed.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up the loss of your friends in the colony,” he added, apologetically.  “Are you feeling better?   Shouldn’t you be in rest cycle now, getting better?”  He asked, tilting his head at Rodimus.

            “I think I’ve been sleeping too long,” Rodimus laughed.  “Did you lose a sparkmate?”  He asked, quietly.  He _couldn’t_ stop himself…………but Drift’s air of sadness was _all-too-familiar_ to him.

            Drift fully turned to him and looked him up and down.  “I’ve _never_ spoken about that……….. _what_ makes you ask _that_?”  He said, a bit of a snap to his voice.

            Rodimus instantly regretted upsetting Drift.   He had _no reason_ to get involved or to pry.   It’s just that this was _Drift_ and back in his universe, Drift was _important_ to him………………

            “Never mind, I’m sorry I brought it up,” Rodimus murmured, turning to leave.  But Drift grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

            “ _No_ ………I want to _know_ , what makes you ask _that question_?”  Drift said, harshly.  “You’ve _never_ been very invasive about anyone’s personal life before……..why are you intruding _now_?”  He snapped.

            If what Rodimus suspected about Hot Rod may be true, then it wouldn’t be out of line to answer that he understood the sense of loss.  He decided to take a gamble…………he wanted to know what side Drift was on here in this universe.   He _needed_ to know……….

            “Back at the colony, I had a _Conjunx Endura_ …………..and I lost him,” Rodimus said, quietly.  “So I could recognize the type of sadness in your voice.”

            Drift suddenly chuckled.  “You must’ve _really_ loved him to use such an old term,” he said, letting go of Rodimus’ arm.  “All right.  _Yes._   I had someone, a _partner_ ………….a _sparkmate_.  Lockdown.  And I miss him all the time anymore,” he answered, honestly.  Drift folded his arms over his chest.   “Amongst the Decepticons, such familiarity is _highly discouraged_ ………….that’s why I had to simply call him my _‘partner’_.  He thought what we did on Nebulos was the wrong thing and he convinced me to help the Nebulans rise up against Megatron’s commanders there.”  Then Drift reached back and drew his two swords.  “ _This_ one was _mine_ …………and the other was _Lockdown’s_ —I took them both when Scorponok killed my partner.”  Drift sheathed the swords and then stared down at the floor in front of him.  “It’s _all I have left_ of the one I loved more than anything……….”

            Rodimus felt a sympathetic ache for Drift.  He took a couple steps forward to stand in front of Drift and then raised his arms to gently cup the sides of Drift’s face.  He brought their foreheads together.

            “You have something _physical_ left of the one you loved, it’s a _true treasure_.  It’s so much harder to be left with only memories…………….because those will fade away someday and you may even lose them all,” Rodimus whispered, then he let go of Drift and stepped back.  “Find friends to _anchor_ you to this world, because it’s hard to be alone in a world that may not understand the sharpness of your loss,” he added.   “Don’t let the thought that you were a Decepticon stop you from making friends here amongst the Autobots.   I think there are people here you could become good friends with.”

            “If I asked, would _you_ be my friend, Hot Rod?  Or is it too painful because it was the Decepticons that slaughtered your colony…………?”  Drift asked.

            _There_ was the answer he didn’t know.  Because Hot Rod had apparently never really told anyone what happened at the colony.  There were _no records_ , either.   The colony had been decimated while Drift was still a Decepticon—so, Drift would know.   Was Drift _there_ , then…………..as Deadlock, _was_ he amongst the forces that ravaged the world where Hot Rod’s comrades had made a small unaffiliated colony?   Now he found himself stuck, he _didn’t_ want to give Drift the hope of friendship…………since Hot Rod was dead and it was uncertain what would happen to Rodimus in Hot Rod’s body, over time.

            “If we manage to survive things, then I would be glad to call you _friend_ ,” Rodimus said, compromising his words as much as he could.

            Drift gave him an odd look.

            “I’ve been told I’m good at motivating people, but not myself…………I’m still not sure where I’m going or where I need to be,” Rodimus responded.   “Right now, I _don’t_ want to make a promise I can’t keep………..so I’ll make a promise that is a _compromise_ , instead.”   Then he smiled at Drift.  “One day, if the fates align………..I feel we can be _very good friends_.”

            “You’re alright, Hot Rod,” Drift chuckled warmly.  “I _should’ve_ gotten to know you before……..two outcasts probably could have become good friends.  But I suppose there wasn’t much time, since you went into stasis soon after the incident on Nebulos.”

            “Drift………….do you ever think the war will end?”  Rodimus asked, curious to find out what someone like him thought about the war and why it was raging here, in this universe.

            “ _Hopefully_ , yes.  But………..at the rate we are going, nothing and no one may survive until the end,” he sighed in response, turning back to staring out the window.  “I think Cybertron is lost though…………but I don’t think anyone wants to accept that.   There’s _not_ the Energon we need to sustain us there…………and as long as the war continues, we can’t possibly figure out a way to regenerate new Energon sources.”

            “Yeah, I agree,” Rodimus said, quietly.  “I think that’s why so many of us left and formed colonies—not just to go and avoid choosing sides in the war,” he added, feeling certain that’s probably the reason of the circumstances.   “It’s _possible_ on other worlds we can find something similar or to be able to synthesize Energon.”

            “Maybe one day the war will end, especially if we have people like _you_ around,” Drift said, giving Rodimus a very warm smile.

            He smiled just like his own Drift.   It stirred feelings in him, feelings he _couldn’t_ let bloom anymore, not while he _had Megatron_ and _loved Megatron_.   Rodimus figured he should make this the end of the conversation and move on.  He softly said good night to Drift and continued down the corridors.  He had no idea how far he had actually walked when he suddenly heard hushed and angry voices coming from somewhere up around the corner.   Quietly, just as his own Drift had taught him back in _his_ universe, Rodimus crept to the edge of the corner and gave a brief glance around it to see who it was before just hiding and listening.   He did not make the mistake of keeping on staring around the corner, as most people did…….he merely needed to see everyone once and just needed to _listen_ , now.

            It was Bumblebee, with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.

            “ _Don’t_ give me excuses like that,” Bumblee snapped in a dangerous voice.  “You told me you were taking care of Hot Rod………….and I just saw him awake and helping out Cerebros this afternoon.  What on Cybertron is your definition of _‘taking care of’_?”

            “But it’s _true_!”  Sunstreaker whined softly.   “We crushed in the base of his skullplating—that _should’ve_ damaged his brain instantly.”

            Rodimus instinctively reached for the back of his neck and felt around.  He couldn’t feel physical damage but if he tried to rub a finger beneath his helmet, he felt an indentation.   _That_ must’ve been what Cerebros saw.

            “I don’t think I need to explain this again…….” Bumblebee began in a hushed tone, but his voice was deeply edged with anger.   “We _can’t_ risk Hot Rod telling anyone that we made a deal with the Decepticons for Energon.   Swindle promised he’d keep it quiet on his end and what we’re doing shouldn’t be bandied about around here for idle gossip.”

            _That_ was it.   _That’s_ how and why Hot Rod was killed.   He had apparently seen Bumbleebee and the twins making a deal with some Decepticons—of course it would’ve been _Swindle_!   _For Energon._ Given how hard it was to find, make or synthesize Energon here in this universe—it would be a prized rarity, which could probably even drive good ‘bots into making bad deals.   But to ensure that Hot Rod would never tell anyone……..they killed him and then probably threw him into stasis to dispose of the body for some time.   Putting the body into stasis would probably fudge the date of actual death, even from someone as great a doctor as Ratchet was.   After a hundred years, no one would think much of Hot Rod’s death—they’d assume, as he and Cerebros had used as a cover story, that Hot Rod had kept an injury to himself and went into stasis without saying anything to anyone.

            _‘Hot Rod………….why were you so **stupid**?  You should’ve gone straight to Optimus Prime with this information—the moment you saw these guys do it,’_ Rodimus thought to himself.  He slowly backed away, that was exactly what he should do right now.

            He went to the bridge, since he wasn’t sure where Optimus Prime’s quarters were on the ship.  And, thankfully, it seemed the Autobot Leader was just as much a workaholic here as he was back in his universe.  Optimus Prime was _still_ on the bridge.   Rodimus hesitated, he _didn’t_ know what Hot Rod’s relationship was with the Autobot Leader here in this universe.  He didn’t know if Optimus would brush him aside or turn him away, as he tended to do in Rodimus’ own universe.

            “Hot Rod, is there something wrong?”  Optimus asked, glancing up from his computer console and looking back at Rodimus.

            Rodimus looked away.   _Was_ this universe anything like his?  Because in _his_ universe Bumblebee was one of Optimus Prime’s very best friends.  If that were true _here_ , Optimus may not want to hear this.

            The Autobot Leader got up and walked over to Rodimus, looking down at him.

            “What if………..?  I mean…………… _what if_ some of the crew had bargained with Decepticons for Energon?” Rodimus whispered, not saying it very loud because he didn’t want to involve the entire bridge crew in the situation.

            “Hot Rod,” Optimus said, very seriously.  “This is an unappealing situation, if it’s true.  Do you have _proof_?”

            Rodimus stared at the floor.  “I don’t, but……………I think Ratchet and Cerebros can make a case for me.  _If_ you would ask them,” he answered.  “The proof that I have…………is very hard to explain.”  Then he looked up into Optimus’ blue optics.  “I may have kept to myself on this ship, but it’s very hard for me to trust people.  I don’t want to cause more trouble than its worth, but I don’t think someone should get away with murder,” Rodimus said, very quietly.    Some of it was how he was himself, but he was starting to think that Hot Rod had some similar personality quirks to him.

            “Murder, now?  Treason _and_ murder?”  Optimus said, his voice suddenly filling with skepticism.

            “Call for Ratchet and Cerebros,” Rodimus answered, softly.  “They’ll explain everything they learned about this situation.  I don’t trust that you’ll trust me with my words alone,” he added.  “ _You never have_ ………” he whispered, not intending Optimus to hear that statement.

            “Hot Rod, I’ve trusted you from the moment you came aboard,” Optimus sighed.  “You need to open up and trust me, _now_.”  Then he motioned to Jetfire on the bridge.  “I’m going to leave you in charge up here, I need to have a conference with Hot Rod and a few others about an important situation.”

            “Understood, sir,” Jetfire said, firmly.  He got up from his science console and went to sit down in the captain’s chair.

 

+     +     +      +     +

 

            Rodimus felt a little anxious being in the conference room alone with Optimus Prime.   The Autobot Leader was making himself busy, probably filling out forms and such—in his universe, that would be _Ultra Magnus’_ hobby.

            “Hot Rod……….why are you so _anxious_ around me now?   You were _not_ like this before, you practically felt glued to my side since we found you,” Optimus suddenly said, breaking the tension around them.

            Rodimus looked over at him.   He was surprised and suddenly realized…………….this was something like a mentor/student vibe Optimus was giving off.  In _this_ universe, probably the one person Hot Rod may have opened up to was likely _only_ Optimus Prime…………….but he clearly didn’t bring up the issue of the traitors.   _Unless_ ………….unless it literally happened _right before_ he was scheduled to go into stasis.   The incident on Nebulos, then the aftermath probably consumed everyone’s attention so that Hot Rod _never even had a chance_ to tell the Autobot Leader what he had seen.    Then Sideswipe and Sunstreaker attacked him or, as Bumblebee said, “took care of him”.   Bumblebee _knew_ Hot Rod was scheduled for stasis and probably set it up so that the twins would attack him and throw his dead body into a stasis chamber.

            “I _hate_ to have to tell you this……………but your Hot Rod is gone,” Rodimus said, quietly.   “It’s complex and complicated and……………maybe _Cerebros_ can help me explain it better.   Ratchet can verify this body is dead.”

            “What do you mean………….. _dead_?   You’re walking around and clearly have intelligence,” Optimus said, a bit puzzled.

            “I’m……………not from _this universe_.  I went to get some rest in my universe and my _‘essence’_ wound up tethered to Hot Rod’s dead body,” Rodimus said.  “Where I’m from, I’m kinda the same person as your Hot Rod, but things went _differently_.  Our war is over, I’m on an exploration vessel—I’m the _Captain_ , actually—and my name is _‘Rodimus’_.”

            Optimus gave him an odd look and then reached up to rub his temples.  “I’ve been awake for too many cycles, I don’t think I’m ready for this right now,” he sighed. 

            He bowed his head and the room went quiet.  Rodimus figured there was no reason to break the silence at the moment.   In a few more moments both Ratchet and Cerebros came into the conference room.  Cerebros sat down beside Rodimus and Ratchet sat down on the free side next to Optimus Prime.

            “Ratchet,” Optimus Prime said, his voice becoming the serious leader’s voice he’d always used in bleak situations.  “Hot Rod tells me he’s _not_ who he says he is and that his body is _dead_.  What can you confirm for me?”

            “I can confirm the body is _dead_.  There are no more life functions in it at all,” Ratchet responded, handing Optimus a datapad of his evaluation from earlier in the day.  “I cannot even understand how a _‘spirit’_ from another universe can make that body move, to be truthful.”

            “Cerebros………….I am not certain _what_ I want you to confirm for me, but what can you confirm for me?”  He asked the ship’s psychiatrist.

            “Hot Rod’s brain has been smashed up pretty good, I _assume_ that’s why he’s dead,” Cerebros sighed.  “Apologies, Ratchet…………I saw the damage and did not tell you, because I was uncertain whether you’d want to autopsy him, even though Rodimus is inside of him right now.”

            “Brain damage?  _That bad?_ ”  Ratchet inquired.  He got up and walked over to Rodimus, motioning for him to remove the helmet so he could look.  Rodimus meekly did so and Ratchet slid open the headcasing, then he gave a huge sigh and shook his head.  “Yeah, I think _this_ would’ve killed Hot Rod instantly…………..this is _brutal_ ,” he murmured, then looked inside the helm that Rodimus was holding up.  “And it appears they pressed the helmet back into shape to cover the damage they did…………….”

            Then Ratchet spun the chair around and looked directly into Rodimus’ optics.

            “Tell me you know _who_ did this to Hot Rod………..?”  He asked, desperately.

            “Yeah…………….I was out wandering and I found out who did it,” Rodimus responded.  Ratchet clearly cared about Hot Rod, too.  “It was Bumblebee, with help from the twins………….” He trailed off.

            “Sideswipe and Sunstreaker?”  Optimus Prime murmured.

            “From what I overheard, Bumblebee made a deal with Swindle for some Energon.  It sounds like Hot Rod saw the deal being made and Bumblebee had the twins take care of him before he went into stasis,” Rodimus answered, his voice soft and he was worried about what they thought of the situation.  In his universe, Bumblebee was well-liked by all.   “I’m sorry………….I don’t know what else I can do, really…………”

            “I figured Bumblebee was getting desperate, trying to find a way to help,” Cerebros murmured.  “It’s hard to think he’d go _that far_ , though…………I suppose he could’ve written it off, to himself anyways, because Hot Rod _wasn’t_ an original member of this crew.   He figured we simply picked up another stray who was being a drain on the ship, as far as Energon goes……………” the psychiatrist trailed off, his voice a bit sad as he grasped the way all the events had come together.

            Ratchet crossed his arms over his chest and looked over at Optimus Prime.  “I know ‘Bee has been here _forever_ and he’s a friend of mine, too…………but this _cannot_ stand.  He _doesn’t_ know what he’s done—it’s time you came forward and told the crew,” the old doctor said to his commanding officer, dire seriousness in his voice.

            Optimus steepled his hands in front of him, bowing his head and dimming his blue optics.  He looked like he was running a dozen thoughts through his head in just a few moments.

            “Hot Rod was our hope……….. _my hope_ ,” Optimus said, quietly.  “The Matrix saw a bright Spark inside of him, the moment we found him on that planet with the devastation of his colony.  I _never_ had a chance to fully train him as my successor.  I suppose my old circuits will need to keep going now, until we can find someone as full of promise as Hot Rod was.”  Optimus paused, looking at Rodimus.  “I hope we can find _someone_ with a bright Spark like that soon.”

            Back in his universe, when he first met Optimus Prime…………..well, besides the business that happened in Nyon………….he had _admired_ the Autobot Leader.  He _wanted_ to be like that…………….someone who could lead others with compassion and strength.  It seemed in _this_ universe……………the other him had been destined to follow Optimus Prime as leader.   Rodimus wished Hot Rod hadn’t been killed………….there was _something amazing_ waiting for him here.   He knew he _had_ to get home, he _had_ to get home to Megatron and the others…………he had to fulfill _his own_ destiny.

            “I’m sorry to hear that,” Rodimus murmured.  “For now, though……I think you should deal with this situation.  In _my_ universe, I know that Optimus Prime and Bumblebee were the best of friends………..I don’t know your relationship in this one, but…………I don’t think you should let him take a situation like this and make this very bad decision without giving him some sort of lecture about it.”

            “Yes, I _will_ need to deal with it,” Optimus responded, standing up.  “First though………..I’d like you to do something for me,” he added, a soft tone in his voice—indicating a smile was probably beneath his facial shield.  He opened his chest and pulled out the Matrix, holding it out towards Rodimus.  “Just _touch_ it, that’s all……..it is the surest way that I can verify everything you’ve said.”

            Rodimus got to his feet.  He extended a hand and hesitated.   He didn’t know why he had hesitated, it _wasn’t_ as if he were unfamiliar with the Matrix.   There was a time when it…………….well, _possessed_ him may likely be the most accurate assessment of the situation.   He had been dead, or at least _as good as dead_ —then the Matrix merged with his body and salvaged his Spark.  It was a mutual benefit situation………Rodimus _wanted_ to get the Matrix back to Cybertron and the Matrix _needed_ to get back to Cybertron to stop the darkness that was growing.  Maybe _that’s_ why he paused………..what if it tried to possess Hot Rod’s body, in order to bring him back to life?   But then…………would that mean it was to salvage a dire situation?

            No, it _couldn’t_ be like that…………..not with Optimus Prime in the room, holding the Matrix.

            The instant Rodimus’ fingers brushed the crystalline center of the sacred object, his life flashed before his optics…………..

            ………………..no, it was _Hot Rod’s_ life………………..!

 

_~      ~      ~_

_The sounds were worse than thunder and the flashes were brighter than nova fires…………Hot Rod stumbled through the wreckage of his dormitory, looking for Blaze.   He **needed** to find his lifepartner………he……..needed…………._

_**That** was Blaze’s body.  There was no mistaking the blue flame pattern on the charred and wrecked frame.   All life seemed to drain away from Hot Rod………….the one he loved was dead.  **Everyone around him was dead.**    The only reason he seemed to be alive was that he had been struck unconscious when the Decepticons assaulted the colony.  He saw Megatron’s Seekers bombing the hell out of the colony dorms………and then it all went black.  When he came to, he was amongst a pile of rubble that used to be the community center.   All of his friends with him were dead._

_**Why had they done this?**    This colony wasn’t affiliated with either side in the war, they had chosen to simply be **Cybertronians**.   They didn’t even have excess Energon, either…………mostly there were solar gatherers, which converted energy to something a Cybertronian could use, in place of Energon.  They could have just **asked** for help!_

_Hot Rod wobbled and stumbled away from the dormitory building wreckage and the body of his sparkmate.   What more **could** he do?  The colony was destroyed, the solar gatherers were decimated……….the one he loved and all his friends were dead…………..all he could do was wait for death to come and take him as well.   He didn’t know when he had finally fallen, time seemed to go so slow and yet flew by as he slipped in and out of consciousness._

_At some point, Hot Rod was stirred by voices._

_“Apologies, Prime………….there appear to be **no survivors** ,” a deep voice said._

_Hot Rod was aware of someone standing very near him.  He forced himself to reach out and grab that person’s leg, to try and get their attention.  As soon as he’d grabbed the blue booted limb, the person was knelt beside him._

_“Ratchet, Minerva!   There’s a survivor, **come quickly**!”  The voice said, urgently, a hand coming to rest gently on top of Hot Rod’s head.  The hand felt very kind, very soothing._

_When Hot Rod came to again, he was inside of a room with a bunch of medical machinery.  He was hooked up to one of them and he watched the life signs on it with a sense of calm.  Apparently he was alive…or else the afterspark was some sort of joke._

_“Looks like you’re finally awake!”  A cheerful voice said.  A Cybertronian with the traditional medical staff coloring of white-and-red came over to the side of his rest slab.  “My name is First Aid and you’re on board Optimus Prime’s flagship, **The Ark** ,” he introduced._

_“I’m…………I’m Hot Rod,” he murmured, softly.  Then he sighed. **He** was alive, but everyone else was dead………………what more could he hope for in life?  He wasn’t sure he wanted to be involved in the war, that’s why Blaze and his friends got together to form a colony and leave Cybertron.  So they could all be free from the conflict._

_“It’s nice to meet you, Hot Rod,” First Aid responded, smiling.   “I just sent a message up to the bridge, Optimus Prime should be down here shortly—he’d like to talk to you,” he added, reaching over to lightly pat Hot Rod’s shoulder._

_“Not sure what there is to say,” Hot Rod murmured.  “Everyone’s dead, I just……………. **yeah**.”  He sighed, long and deep._

_In about five minutes, as First Aid bustled about checking all the monitors and Hot Rod’s signs, Optimus Prime arrived in the small recovery room.  His presence seemed to fill the room to bursting.  He had **that spark** ………that light of charisma and leadership…………that **drew** people to him.  Hot Rod felt it, it felt **familiar** ……….this must have been the one he reached out to, back at the colony.   That presence, which stirred him towards consciousness then……………_

_“Good evening, Hot Rod………….I am Optimus Prime, the Leader of the Autobots,” the commanding officer said, his voice both deep and soft at the same time.  He lightly ducked his shoulders as a formal gesture, a mild bow or salute.  “First Aid, may we have privacy?”  He inquired, turning to look back at the younger medical officer.    After First Aid left the room, Optimus turned back to Hot Rod and gazed down at him.  “I say **‘evening’** , but only because it is a set daytime-nighttime cycle aboard my ship.  To give everyone a sense of time and passage of time,” he added, with mild amusement in his voice._

_“Ah, I see,” Hot Rod responded, trying to keep the conversation natural.   He felt shy and intimidated by this immense presence.     “Um……….before you ask, I really **don’t** know what happened.  I thought I saw Decepticons, the Seekers, but I can’t be sure.  We’re **not** Autobots, we’re **unaffiliated** …………….so I don’t know why they attacked us.  We don’t really have Energon sources, either—we were harvesting solar energy, most of us had efficiency systems.”_

_“ **Mmmmm** ,” Optimus murmured, folding his arms across his chest.   “The war is getting desperate for both sides, they may not have realized that you had efficiency systems and were targeting you to find your Energon source.”_

_That was what hurt Hot Rod the most, the fact that the attack had been pointless after all.  He lost his love and his friends in something that had no benefit for anyone.   He felt he had no future at all, without anyone beside him……………_

_“Hot Rod, you are welcome aboard my ship………….but we are at war and we will be fighting,” Optimus said, softly, reaching out to pat Hot Rod’s shoulder gently._

_The younger Cybertronian looked up at Optimus, **desperately** …………..not speaking the words, but hoping the expression on his face said how much he longed for the afterspark at this moment._

_“I **cannot** do that for you, either,” Optimus sighed.  “My mission is to **save** lives, not take them.  I do what I must in combat, but I am not doing so by choice.  If you know of somewhere we can drop you off, then we can do that instead………….but if you stay aboard the ship, you’ll need to take on our mission.”_

_“I understand……………I’ll need to think about it,” Hot Rod murmured._

_“You have a bright Spark within you, Hot Rod……………don’t snuff it out before its time,” Optimus Prime said, trying to give positive encouragement._

_But then, a week later, Hot Rod had chosen to join the mission of Optimus Prime’s ship.  He claimed the Autobot brand and swore loyalty to the cause.  He had proven to be a very good soldier, although he had a tendency to put his own life in jeopardy when he was saving others………and was not very good at relying on others.   But he was friendly towards everyone, even if he were not very forthcoming about his past……..he put on a brave face so others would not be worried for him.   Then, a week after he had joined the crew officially, Optimus Prime had summoned him to his office—really just a small space in his quarters that he’d made into a cubicle of sorts, to call an “office”._

_Hot Rod had heard from others that he had **two offices** ……..when Optimus Prime needed to meet with a group or general discussions with crew members, he used the conference room just off the corridors from the bridge.   But when Optimus Prime needed to privately speak with a crew member for one reason or another, he used the cubicle in his quarters—which may be because he’d know if it were safe and secure from being overheard or similar things.   Hot Rod had only heard gossip and rumours that to be called into Prime’s quarters to be spoken with usually meant a **lecture** of sorts—that you were likely **in trouble**.   So, he was admittedly a little anxious at the summons._

_“Hot Rod, reporting as ordered, sir,” he announced, as he entered the Autobot Leader’s quarters.  He had expected to have to knock or otherwise let someone know he was there, but the door automatically slid open as he approached.   So, the door was set to **auto**?   That seemed **strange** …………._

_He saw Optimus’ tall form in the corner, by what must have been the “office cubicle”, and Ratchet was with him.   The two were talking in lowered voices and Ratchet’s voice had a tone of mild upset in it.   The old doctor was poking his finger very agitatedly in Optimus’ side.  Which Hot Rod thought was strange.  But even stranger seemed to be the look of pain on what could be seen on Optimus Prime’s faceplace, that portion that was above the facial shield._

_“My apologies, Hot Rod……..please, have a seat while Ratchet finishes **lecturing** me on maintenance treating of old injuries,” Optimus responded with a mild chuckle at the end of the statement._

_“No, the **lecture** is done………now let’s get to the real business at hand,” Ratchet sighed, knowing his leader would never listen to any words of advice given to him.  “Hot Rod………….have you ever opened your chestplate and looked inside?   Do you know why you have so much extra space in it?”  Ratchet asked, curiously._

_“No, I never really thought about it, but……………Blaze asked me about it once and I couldn’t answer him,” Hot Rod responded, shaking his head._

_“Hot Rod,” Optimus Prime began, softly.  “The Matrix tells me you’re **special** and it wants to see you grow into a person worthy of carrying it.  It says you’re not there yet, but if I can teach you a few things…I think you’ll be ready for it soon enough.”_

_“I don’t………….understand?   I mean, **you’re** alive and carrying it…………why do you need **me**?”  Hot Rod murmured, finally just plunking down in the originally offered seat, a bit stunned at the path the conversation was taking._

_“Prime’s had a serious injury for years now and we just go around and around patching it up, he’s strong and sturdy…………..but I’m certain he **can’t** hold out forever, no matter what he might like to think about his durability,” Ratchet sighed.  “When he asked me what I thought of you………….under any **normal circumstances** I would’ve dismissed it, if I **hadn’t** seen the extra space in your chest.  I think your protoform and Spark grew with that space for **this** particular purpose.”_

_Hot Rod was still in a sense of disbelief as Optimus Prime decided to undertake his training as a successor.   It was mostly done in secret, because Prime didn’t want the crew to know he was near the end of his lifecycle.  He also didn’t want Hot Rod to become a target for any reason.   However, perhaps keeping it a secret was the worst thing to do, because then the **most terrible of all things** happened……………_

_~     ~      ~_

            Rodimus groaned as he was pulled out of the flashes of Hot Rod’s relatively short life aboard the ship.  To _legitimately_ be chosen as an heir………….as a _future bearer_ of the Matrix was an amazing destiny.  Cut short by a _stupid_ twist of fate.  So very, _very_ stupid………….!   He shook his head and rubbed his temples gently.   He wasn’t chosen in his universe……….he was just “chosen” to be a vehicle to get the Matrix back to Cybertron.  He wasn’t legitimately in the line of successions of the Primes.  He wasn’t………………..

            “I’m so sorry,” Rodimus sighed.  “I wish I could change what happened…I wish I could bring Hot Rod back for you.   But…………..I know this is _selfish_ …………but all I want to do is get back home to Megatron and the others.”

            The gasp from both Ratchet and Optimus Prime was quickly stifled.  Making Rodimus look up at them in surprise, until he remembered, he’d _only_ been talking with Cerebros about a lot of other things from his own life.

            “Yeah, okay…………..but Cerebros and I already had this conversation.  **_It is what it is_** …………I’m _tired_ of apologizing for the crap that Megatron did—and in our universe, maybe didn’t have much of a free will in the matter.  I happen to _love_ him and that’s that,” Rodimus sighed, sitting back down in the conference chair with a heavy thud.   He laid his head down on the table, thinking of Drift, too………….and suddenly just started grinding his forehead against the table.  _Damn it_ , he couldn’t keep bringing Drift into this equation.   His relationship with Drift was _over_ ………..they could _only_ be friends now.  Rodimus was not going into an open-ended relationship with either Megatron or Drift—there was _just Megatron_.  Megatron was his partner until………..

            “Dammit.  _Dammitdammitdammitdammit_ …………I hate my life,” Rodimus groaned against the table.  He folded his arms and laid his chin on his arms so he could sort of look at the others in the room again.   “For now, let’s see what we can do about your situation here.   I can’t keep being mopey because Megatron would tease me about it and we’d have words.   Optimus……?  If the Matrix has _not_ chosen anyone else on this ship, then it means your next successor must be on another colony or back on Cybertron.”

            “Quite possibly, but is that something _you_ can resolve?”  Prime inquired, still a bit puzzled by everything that had been going on the past few moments.

            “Do you have a list of the unaffiliated colonies?” Rodimus asked.   “Let me take a look at them while you decide what you’re going to do with Bumblebee and the twins…………and decide what to tell the crew.   I’m good with people, _most_ of the time.”

            “Alright, let me know if you have any ideas, then,” Optimus Prime responded with a soft chuckle.  Then he dismissed everyone as he pulled up the known records for Cybertronian colonies.

 

+     +     +     +     +

 

            Rodimus looked at the lists of colonies.    He figured, even unaffiliated colonies would be recorded by the Autobots—whether the colonists knew that or not.   If Optimus Prime were even half the Autobot Leader that he was in his own universe……….he’d want to keep tabs on other Cybertronians, so he could _protect_ them.  There were a lot of recognizable names on the lists that Optimus did have………but Rodimus also figured that Optimus probably didn’t have a complete list of the colonies.   If he were a colonist trying to _truly be unaffiliated_ , he’d make sure his friends and cohorts on the colony would move around a bit to try and keep from being found.   There were a number listed as “Autobot” and “Decepticon” colonies, specifically, as well.

            How strange…………..Decepticon colonies?   He could see that in his universe, with Megatron’s original idea of rebellion and how Soundwave had constructed a commune for Decepticons out near that backwater world of Earth.   But _here_ in this universe?   Where the Decepticons had been tagged as “evil”?  Then again…….there _were_ Decepticons like Deadlock (Drift) and Lockdown…………who may not have agreed with everything the Decepticons did.   Maybe Decepticon colonies here were possible………….

            He thought of those who had been good commanders in his universe and looked at the similar names on the colony worlds.  This was a little difficult, too, as he saw familiar names like _Star Saber_ with an Autobot colony and in his universe, that person was a religious nutjob with no real affiliation (though he’d claimed to be an Autobot once).   Well, being practically _dead_ now killed his affiliation with _anything_ , to be truthful—where ever he was, he hadn’t shown his faceplate in the general public in quite some time.   But looking at others who were on the same colony made Rodimus hesitate on writing him off just like that.   There were _good_ Autobots there, whom he knew in his universe…………..and despite _his_ universe’s Star Saber being a scary freak, he _did_ have that aura of command.  That charisma may well have been Tyrest’s reason for proposing Star Saber as a replacement for Ultra Magnus as a law enforcement officer.   He made a note of Star Saber and looked at other colony lists.

            When Rodimus was tired of this, he set his list aside to give to Optimus Prime…………he’d listed _thirteen_ candidates that he’d recommend Optimus look into for a possible successor.  However, one name he chose was……..listed in a Decepticon colony.   Rodimus really couldn’t just dismiss that name.  If that person really were a _Decepticon_ in this universe, then it was really strange…………..but they may be different, _like Drift_.   After all…………..he knew a bit about _his universe’s_ Windblade and she was turning into a very good leader, standing athwart Starscream and his machinations on Cybertron.   But, then, _Starscream_ was changing as well…..the two seemed well on their way towards eventually becoming “partners”.   The Windblade of _this_ universe may not even identify as “female”, as in his universe, but it probably wouldn’t hurt for Optimus to look into this universe’s Windblade for _potential_.

            If Megatron, Drift and all of his friends were not awaiting him back in his universe………..Rodimus _might_ have been tempted to remain here in Hot Rod’s place.   He _always_ wanted to have a grand destiny, instead of always looking over into one.  Something to make him feel special……………. _needed_.   _Could_ the crew of the _Lost Light_ find the Knights of Cybertron without him?  _Sure._   It didn’t matter what Drift said……..if someone wanted to find them bad enough—the means would make themselves known to that person.   But most of the crew didn’t actually have a vested interest in the end of the quest itself………….many were along for the adventure or simply to get away from Cybertron.

            So, _yeah_ ……………the crew _didn’t_ absolutely need him.  _Not for the quest._   Hell…………if Getaway wanted to do it _that badly_ , maybe he should let him.  If the crew really would rather have had _that jerk_ in charge, it was fine.   But the fact remained that the _Lost Light_ belonged to _Rodimus_ …the ship was _legally his_ , Drift purchased it _for them_ and filed the paperwork with officials under Rodimus’ name—even Ultra Magnus verified that the paperwork was legitimate and accurate (there would be _no way_ Ultra Magnus would let the ship take off from Cybertron without checking it all out!).  And Rodimus was _not_ going to let Getaway actually get away with _theft_!   And as soon as they could find a way to contact Fortress Maximus, he was going to start _legal procedures_ against Getaway for the theft of his property!    If he absolutely had to……….he’d file the proper paperwork with _Starscream_ to get _his ship_ back!    And if he let Starscream do it…………the current leader of Cybertron would _probably_ enjoy putting a bounty on an Autobot’s head for theft and charges of mutiny.

            Megatron had asked why Rodimus was getting so riled up about the ship, before all this happened at the moment, right after the DJD had been defeated.   It was a _ship_ …and if they had some assistance off the Necrobot’s world, they could simply find a _new one_.   Megatron had money, Rodimus had money………….Cyclonus, as they all understood it, was _absolutely filthy rich_ ………..money _wasn’t_ the issue.   But Rodimus felt an _attachment_ to the ship.  It was _important_ to him, because _Drift_ gave it to him and…………the ship felt _special_ , it felt _right_.  For the quest, for the adventure…………… _for all of them_.   It was like Getaway had stolen _their home_ away from them.  And Rodimus _wasn’t_ going to stand for that.  _He wasn’t going to stand for that at all!_    But maybe he really _should_ ask everyone how they felt……….would they be all right if the plan became to just go find a new ship and go off on their own path for the quest?   _Rodimus had the map._    They could go off on their own at any time.  And from what Drift said………..whatever map Rodimus had doodled on his desk and they’d been going off of— _and was the map Getaway was relying on_ —was not the **_complete map_**.   Megatron and Ultra Magnus…….who had apparently seen the map inside Rodimus’ chestplate…….said _that_ was the only complete map they’d _ever_ seen.  Ultra Magnus had said it—and he had seen Thunderclash’s map back on the _Vis Vitalis_!

            But then…if everyone _was_ in on the mutiny, as Getaway said…then _Thunderclash_ was too.  And Getaway would be able to confirm the map and have Thunderclash make additions to it.   But it was the way Getaway said that one statement—something in his tone as he said it…………. “We have the map you drew for us!”  _That_ made Rodimus hesitate on truly thinking everyone was in on the mutiny.   What did Getaway do to those who _weren’t_ in on the mutiny?  Were they all locked up……. _or worse_?   Would Getaway hesitate on taking lives?   Rodimus _didn’t_ think he would hesitate—after all, he _was_ a student of Prowl’s and he was nearly as canny and as calculating.    **_Lives?_**    Lives were _unimportant_ as long as the intended goal was reached.

            Rodimus sighed and laid his head down in his arms.   He still _didn’t_ feel tired or anything.  It had to be because Hot Rod’s body was _dead_ and whatever Rodimus was here in this universe was just a _consciousness_ of some sort.  A consciousness could not feel exhaustion.

            “Is everything all right, Rodimus?”  A familiar voice asked, as he felt someone sit down across the table from him.

            Rodimus looked up to see Optimus Prime had taken the seat across from him.  He smiled and waved a hand absently.  “Fine.  Just………….I _need_ to get back home.  I just…………I guess I’m not done here, _yet_ ,” he sighed.   “Here’s a list of some people I think might be worth checking out.   Names I recognize from my universe, whom I think may have some potential—so I hope that you find someone to succeed you,” he added with a warm chuckle.

            “You’re sure you’re all right?”  Optimus asked, taking the datapad and scanning the names.

            “ _Mmmmm._   Yeah,” Rodimus said, sitting up and leaning back in the chair.   “I’ll admit…………some small part of me wishes I were staying and it could be _me_ , but…………” he trailed off.  “No, I’m done with _that_.  It’s a pain in the tailpipe to be in charge.  _Too stressful._   I’m letting Megatron take care of that stuff now.  I can do what _I’m_ best at—helping people, finding things and generally being a good motivator.”

            “Cerebros says your universe and the evolution of our race is very interesting,” Oprimus Prime said with a warmth in his voice.   “Considering you’re saying Megatron is an _Autobot_ now and such things……….it _does_ make me curious.”

            “Megatron _didn’t_ have to choose to be an Autobot—he could’ve simply said he would be **_Cybertronian_**.  Which is what I hope we can _all_ get back to, one day.   He chose the Autobot brand to _prove a point_ —that he had _changed_ , though there are people who won’t let a _‘genocidal maniac’_ even make an attempt to change,” Rodimus answered, softly.   “What happened was _not_ entirely his fault…………..the old senate crafted a villain to take down and solidify their reign—they took a Cybertronian who was a miner and a poet and twisted all his ideals of universal freedom into forging peace through tyranny.   They used a mnemosurgeon to alter his brain and threw the broken leftovers into the gladiator pits………. _that_ was what crafted the _‘evil Megatron’_ that everyone thinks he will always be.  Vector Sigma’s revitalizing pulse restored his systems back to the way they originally were……………and no one wants to believe that.  Now the new regime on Cybertron simply wants a scapegoat to blame the war on and somehow when he’s executed all anger and hatred will _magically vanish_ , I suppose.”

            “How very shortsighted and simpleminded,” Optimus sighed, shaking his head.

            “People think that placing blame absolves them of all their own darkness,” Rodimus added, nodding at the Autobot Leader’s statements.  “Some of us _still_ wear our brands, because they _mean something_ to us…….but I think that given enough time, we’ll all just be Cybertronians again.   Only the individual can absolve themselves of their darkness, placing blame on another for the war and what they did during the war won’t help anyone.”

            “You accept what you’ve done,” Optimus murmured, a bit of awe in his voice.

            “I didn’t do pretty things during the war……….and I was a damn good soldier, even if I sometimes struck out on my own,” Rodimus responded.  “I constantly got written up for not obeying my superiors’ direct instructions, but most of the time I got things done better and more efficiently on my own methods.  I’m a team player, but I’d rather be _alone_ to do missions and stuff.”

            “I’m not sure that’s the definition of a good soldier though,” Optimus chuckled. 

            “Well, _not to my superiors_ , no………….but if they’d just listen to me when I told them I was better doing things alone, then I’m sure I _was_.  I didn’t like death around me………I didn’t like being responsible for someone working beside me on a mission.  I performed better on solo missions than team missions.  But part of that, as I understand it, is _Blaze’s_ fault,” Rodimus sighed, laying his head back down on his arms.

            “Hot Rod had mentioned Blaze,” Optimus said.  “It was his sparkmate,” he added.

            “And mine, too.  But I _can’t_ remember him, not anymore,” Rodimus answered, fidgeting.  “A thing happened, I suffered some minor brain damage.  I lost _all_ my memories of Blaze…………and everything Hot Rod became without the one he loved.  I was………….well, according to others, an _egotistical ass_.  I look back on my attitude and can hardly believe that was me sometimes.   Brainstorm tells me that the ego came from Blaze……..so when he supposedly died, I apparently took on his personality to remember him or _something_.   I know that without it…………after the injury, _without that ego to protect me_ , I felt lonely and vulnerable.   I _didn’t_ know who I was anymore—Hot Rod was long gone and I couldn’t remember the ego that protected me for so many centuries.   Megatron reached out to me then and I………became _attached_ to him.   And he…………..I cannot even describe how _passionate_ he is when he devotes himself to someone or something.   Passion is something I can relate to……..passion and energy is something I admire and desire.  Megatron’s _got_ that.  It wasn’t hard for me to fall in love with him……….I _wanted_ to be in love again and not be alone anymore.  Mine and Drift’s relationship ended badly…………Blaze was gone from my memories…………I just _wanted_ to belong to someone again.”

            Optimus tilted his head at Rodimus, curiously.

            “It’s funny, once I jokingly referred to my crew as a bunch of lost and emotionally scarred Cybertronians,” Rodimus responded with a light chuckle, raising his head and leaning back in the chair again.   “But it’s actually _true_ ………..we all don’t feel we belonged on Cybertron, we all had our own emotional scars from one thing or another.  Even Megatron, he’s _no different_ than anyone else………..even if people think he’s still the evil tyrant of the war.  He’s just as scarred as the rest of us.”

            “Don’t you think you’re a good leader?   From everything I’ve seen from you these past hours, it seems like you were _born to lead_ ,” Optimus asked, his voice colored with curiousity and maybe even a bit of admiration.

            “I _could_ ,” Rodimus answered, shrugging.  “But I just don’t want to anymore.  I think Getaway’s whole mutiny just made me realize I _don’t_ want to deal with that anymore.  Megatron……..and Ultra Magnus now, too……..think we should just go find another ship.  But……………. _I don’t know_.  I _want_ the _Lost Light_ back……it’s _mine_ and Drift gave it to me.   I _can’t_ let that bastard steal my personal belongings.”   Rodimus paused and then leaned forwards, folding his fingers together and leaning his forehead against his cupped hands.   “And I am beginning to think that not everyone was actually in on the mutiny.  If Getaway _hurt anyone_ for not agreeing with him and participating in the mutiny…………..I am _not_ letting him get away with _that_.  I _refuse_ to let anyone get hurt because of me, _not for any reason_ because of me.”

            “The desire to protect others is a _good strength_ ,” Optimus Prime said, a gentle warmth in his voice.  “I am about to have a conference with the entire crew on the recreational deck, I need you to be there.”

            “All right,” Rodimus answered, standing up just as the Autobot Leader was standing up.

 

+     +      +     +     +

 

            The entire crew was milling about on the large recreational deck.  The _ENTIRE_ crew was there, with the exception of those too injured to move.   Labs and stations were being briefly manned by the autopilot set by the onboard computer _Teletraan I_.   Rodimus looked around………….. _so many familiar faces_ , some with slight structural differences.   It gave him both fond memories and some brief agitations………….there were people he _liked_ here and people that he _did not like_ , or did not get along with—at least in comparison to the similar ones he knew back in his own universe.

            As soon as Optimus Prime stepped up onto a raised platform near the back of the room, Rodimus noted a few security people take places by the door………and _then_ the room went absolutely silent.

            “Fellow Autobots………….it grieves me to bring you this news,” Optimus began, his head subtly shifting to glance over the entire room to make sure the ones he needed to be here were here.    Then he motioned to Rodimus who came up on the platform.   “Unfortunately _Hot Rod is dead_ …………..there is another consciousness inside of his body, keeping up an impression of life until we were able to find the culprits who killed him.    Shortly before Hot Rod went into stasis 101 years ago, members of our crew crushed in his skull and threw him into the stasis pod to cover up their gruesome activity.”

            A wave of gasps and murmurs rippled through the gathered crew members.   At the same time, three Autobots were subtly trying to get to the door, only to find themselves blocked by the security force.   Ultra Magnus and his deputy immediately put the three in cuffs and held on to them as Optimus Prime continued his announcements.

            “Bumblebee, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker made a deal with some Decepticons for some Energon.  I’m certain their intentions were meant to be helpful.  However, the fact that Hot Rod had overseen the exchange, which motivated them to _end his life_ so they could keep their secret, that is an _unforgivable act_ ,” Optimus Prime continued.   Then Optimus shook his head and looked back out over the gathered Autobots.   “Whatever the reason, whatever the excuse………..it is not worth the lives of anyone, crew member or innocent.   This event has also brought me to an unpleasant situation to share with you all, as well.”

            Rodimus kept his face—Hot Rod’s face—unemotional.   Optimus was really going to tell the crew…….this was going to have some serious ongoing consequences.

            “Hot Rod was being trained as _my successor_.  The _Matrix_ had chosen him to replace me, for I have been hiding a fatal injury from all of you for over two-hundred years.   My battle with Megatron on Descarre, before we encountered Hot Rod’s devastated colony, left me with a fatal wound,” Optimus Prime said, seriously.  More hushed murmurs and whispers rippled through the room.   “I have been hanging on only through sheer force of will and the Matrix keeping me enough alive until I could find a successor.   Hot Rod’s bright Spark called out to the Matrix and brought him to us.   Unfortunately, I am no longer certain if I can hold on longer to find a new successor.”

            Optimus then motioned to Rodimus.  Rodimus seemed taken aback by that and looked around, pointing at himself, before shrugging and letting out a soft sigh.

            “I’m the same Cybertronian as your Hot Rod, though I’m from an alternative universe.   I was sleeping back in my universe and woke up inside Hot Rod’s dead body………..I can only infer I was here to solve this problem, otherwise I’m not sure why Primus or whomever may’ve sent me here,” Rodimus began.  He held up a datapad.  “I’ve reviewed what you all know of the colonies of Cybertronians—unaffiliated, Autobot _and_ Decepticon—and put together a list of people I think could have potential to be Optimus Prime’s successor, since the Matrix could not find anyone here on this ship.  Your war is still going on and you cannot keep going without a leader— _without hope_.   I’m sure the command crew will find the best way to interview these candidates, but it would be good if the crew could learn about who these people are, so they can accept a new leader easier.   Keep in mind, it will be _the Matrix_ choosing this successor………so you may have to settle down and accept it.”

            After Optimus got everyone to settle down again, he took questions.  Then he had Ultra Magnus take the three crew members that were arrested down to the brig.   Afterwards, he dismissed everyone.  Rodimus didn’t know what to do next or where to go, so he was one of the last ones left in the recreational room.   And Drift remained behind as well.  Drift…………who approached him cautiously.

            “Well, _this_ explains why we couldn’t be friends, doesn’t it?”   Drift sighed.

            “I’m sorry I _couldn’t_ explain things to you,” Rodimus apologized.   “Until we had dealt with those others, we had to keep things a secret.  You’re one of the last ones I would _ever_ want to lie to, Drift……….. _really_.”

            Drift tilted his head, puzzled. 

            “In my universe, Drift and I were together for a while,” Rodimus explained.   “Stupid things happened that we couldn’t get past and………….now we’re _just friends_ , because I’m with someone else.   But _my_ Drift……..he still means a lot to me—and I believe he _always_ will mean a lot to me—so that’s why it colors my feelings speaking with you, here, in this universe.”

            Drift gave a soft chuckle, then he broke into outright laughter.  “Ah………… _Primus_ , that really does explain a lot!  I wondered why you were so intent on speaking to me, but you just wanted a familiar face……someone who was _important_ to you.  You wanted to know if I was _‘good’_ and could be trusted,” he responded, smiling fondly.    “Like _your_ Drift.”

            All of the sudden, Rodimus did something he’d _never even done_ with Megatron………not in their Cybertronian forms anyways (only in their _avatar_ forms)—after all, it was _not_ a Cybertronian gesture.  He stepped over to Drift, cupped his face and then kissed him, opening both their mouths and let the kiss linger for a time.  Then he pulled away.  He felt heated and embarrassed by what he’d just done, but…………..he wasn’t going to leave this alone.   Even though he didn’t think Megatron would mind, he wasn’t even going to consider showing that need and passion to Drift in _his_ universe.   This universe’s Drift brought surprised fingers up to his lips and brushed them.

            “I’ve seen Nebulans do that…………. _where_ did you learn how to do that?” Drift murmured, surprise coloring his voice.

            “Don’t ask………….. _seriously, don’t ask_.  It’s too embarrassing,” Rodimus whispered, waving his hands desperately in front of him.  “Don’t go on alone, Drift……………please, _please_ open up and find someone.  I want you to be _happy_ ,” he said, desperately.

            “You should tell this to your own universe’s Drift, too………simply telling me won’t get any results _there_ ,” Drift responded, sighing softly.

            “I _know_ ……………I do know that.  I just……………..” Rodimus stammered.

            Drift gently wrapped his arms about Rodimus’ shoulders and brought Rodimus’ head down to his chestplate in a hug of kindness and warmth.

            “Don’t let words create an insurmountable wall,” Drift said, softly.   “Whatever you and Drift said to one another in the past should not keep you from having a _normal_ and _not-awkward_ relationship,” he added with a chuckle.  “You _can_ love more than one person and you can set your parameters on _relationships_ —as long as everyone involved understands those parameters.”

            Words creating an insurmountable wall…………. _Rodimus_ had said those words before.  He’d said them to Cyclonus, right before he’d gone off to look for a place to sleep.   More than anything, he wanted to get back home, to _everyone_.  The longer he stayed here, the more things he wanted which he knew he _could not_ have.   He sighed and pulled himself away from Drift.

            “Thanks,” he said, smiling at the former Decepticon.   “Now I just…………..need to figure out how to get back home…………..” he trailed off, sadly.

            “I don’t know if this will be a good idea or not, but……………….you said you went into sleep mode in your own universe and woke up here—at the time we removed Hot Rod from stasis,” Drift said.   “What do you suppose would happen if you went into stasis, in Hot Rod’s body, _here_?   Do you think your consciousness would become loose again and find its way back?”   He proposed.

            “It could be worth a try!”  Rodimus said, enthusiastically.  He really _hoped_ it would work.    He and Drift went down to the stasis chambers.

            They tested one of the empty ones, to make sure it was functioning properly, and then Rodimus hesitated.

            “Come on, you can’t get cold feet now,” Drift chuckled.  “Tomorrow, I’ll come and check the stasis chamber—if you’re still here, then we probably have to think of something else.  But if Hot Rod’s body is all that’s left, then I will hope you’ve gotten back home.”

            “Thanks for your understanding and help,” Rodimus murmured.  “I really hope you can find friends…….or someone else to share your life with,” he added, stepping into the stasis chamber.

            “I will do my best.   Good luck to you, Rodimus,” Drift answered, gently shutting the stasis chamber.

            Rodimus tried to relax and let the stasis chamber do its work of shutting down his systems into a bare minimal mode.  Though Hot Rod’s body only had bare functions anyways.   Oddly, he found himself feeling sleepy and thought to himself that maybe this was really going to work after all…………………

 

*     *     *     *     *

 

            Rodimus felt disoriented.

            “I’m glad you could come this year, Rodimus,” a strange voice said.  It didn’t have the timbre of a Cybertronian………….it sounded…………… _human_?   That seemed very strange……was he suddenly on Earth?   “It seems everyone else was too busy……..” the voice continued.

            Rodimus looked over and down…………..and sure enough, it was a _human_.

            A **_human_** , whose expression suddenly turned suspicious as he pulled a hand-blaster from his side-holster, raising it up to level it with Rodimus’ face.   The human’s brown hair suddenly turned a strange golden shade and floated about his head as if he were in zero gravity.

            “I don’t know who you are or how you could possess my friend’s body………….but I need you to evacuate his body before I blast your face off,” the human snarled in its very strange, monotone-sounding voice.

            Rodimus actually laughed.   Here he was stuck in _another_ version of himself, this one was called **_Rodimus_** apparently………………..associating with a young Earth human.  The human was actually rather amusing, being so brave as to confront a Cybertronian who could stomp him flat in a few seconds.   However his laughter apparently upset the human boy, though, who muttered a string of hushed curses and pressed his finger tighter on his hand-blaster’s trigger.

            “I wish I could…………..but seriously, _what is up with your hair_?   I’ve never seen a human’s hair act like that before!”  Rodimus chuckled as he held his hands up in the universal gesture of peace and surrender.   “Look……….I’m tired of being bounced around now by Primus or whomever…………..I’d gladly enjoy getting back to my own universe and my own friends.  But………..now I need to figure out why I’m here in this universe of **_yours_**.   I’m Rodimus…………but clearly not _your_ Rodimus.   Might I get your name, human?”  He asked, smiling and trying to be civil about the situation.

            “Tch,” the young man muttered with an annoyed huff.   Being called “human” as a name perturbed him.  He put his hand-blaster back at his side and reached up to brush his floating golden hair.  “Whoever you are, Rodimus……………you’re seriously triggering my sense of Energon right now.   I’m Kicker Jones, born on Earth……..but have made my home here on this lonely little world that Alpha-Q created for me.   I call it **_Safehome_**.”

            Then Kicker plopped back onto the seat of his motorcycle, running fingers through his hair.   His Energon sense has never lasted this long before.   He was more puzzled than upset right now.

            “Look…………I think you need to _chill_ , Rodimus.  You’re wound up and it’s making my head buzz…..you’re going to give me a headache,” Kicker sighed.   “Let’s **_both_** calm down, all right?”

            Rodimus tilted his head, confused by the boy saying he could sense Energon.  Was there more of **_himself_** in this body?  Or was it because………….this body was actually **_alive_**?   If there were more of whatever made up “Rodimus/himself”, then, perhaps it could be because he had “ _carried_ ” the Matrix once and that extra energy was infused in his innermost Energon forever.    Rodimus had a vague sense of the other one inside of him, as if the main personality of this body had gone into stasis lock or a deep unconsciousness.   It seemed that if Primus or _some other god_ were responsible for Rodimus’ jumping from alternative self to alternative self for a mysterious reason………..he was making sure the main personality couldn’t assert itself so Rodimus could take care of the situation on his own.

            “How can you sense Energon?   You’re an Earth human, right………..?”  Rodimus asked, sitting crosslegged on the ground in front of the boy, trying to settle himself down.

            “The Autobots had been on Earth for a while and my dad worked with them…….he found that Energon could be used as a clean energy source for Earth—so he studied Energon for all the time I can remember.   I think I’m sensitive to it because I was conceived and raised around the labs.  My sister lucked out in that mom went to work away from dad’s labs when she was conceived and born, so she’s pretty normal,” Kicker explained, shrugging and making a motion with his hands.   “It triggered more changes in me as I grew up, though…………and I think Alpha-Q foresaw that.  That’s why he made _this_ world for me.  I’m twenty-one now……..it’s been six years since that final battle with Galvatron and Unicron.  And Alpha-Q’s death.”

            “You said _‘lonely’_ ……………are you all alone on this world, this Safehome?” Rodimus asked.

            “Most of the time.   It’s better to not be around humans.   One of the other changes that got triggered in me was the ability to telepathically connect with people.   That happened when I turned eighteen—I had to move off the other world Alpha-Q created, where my family was living,” Kicker sighed.   His hair started slowly changing back to brown and settling down to normal atop his head, which meant they were both calming down.   “Humans are, _unfortunately_ , telepathically noisy people.   Cybertronians are bearable, but in the past year I’ve started hearing them more often, too.”

            Rodimus noted how he said “ ** _Cybertronians_** ” and not “ _Autobots_ ” or “ _Decepticons_ ” specifically.

            “Is there no war?” Rodimus asked, hopefully.

            “There’s still something of a divide, but……………new Cybertronians coming online choose to be Cybertronians and not Autobots or Decepticons,” Kicker explained with a warm laugh.  “What about where you come from?”   He asked.

            “Just about the same, except the divide is still immense and those who aren’t Autobots or Decepticons either come from a colony or call themselves ‘unaffiliated’.   Though on Cybertron, the very negative word of _‘NAIL’_ came about for them………….non-affiliated indigenous lifeforms,” Rodimus explained.

            “You Cybertronians are just like us Earthlings,” Kicker said with a hearty laugh.   “I can’t really hear you, now that you’ve calmed down, though………..and the Rodimus I know?   His thoughts are offline at the moment, so I think I can believe your bizarre story.   Though you refer to Primus as a god and not as the master programmer of Cybertron, that’s different!”

            “Hell…………..I **_hope_** it’s Primus or at least one of the benevolent gods of the universe moving me about like their own personal chesspiece, because I really just want to get home,” Rodimus groaned, placing his hands back behind him and leaning back to look at the sky.  It looked much like the Earth’s fair weather sky.  A soft blue with a tinge of green, some various cloud shapes.   The backdrop seemed Earth-like, too…………..it was a large grassy field.  In the distance, Rodimus could see a building which must be this Kicker’s living area—his “home” on this world.   “In my universe, the Master Programmer is known as Vector Sigma.   They also call him the core of Cybertron.  He channels the power of Primus.   So there’s no religion for your Cybertronians?”

            “Not really, though Primus is important to them,” Kicker responds.  “Primus is interesting to hold conversations with, when he feels like talking,” he added.   “Primus seems to think that Cybertronians hold him in the esteem of a god…………eh, my dad seems to think so, too…………it’s just that Primus has been around longer than any Cybertronians that are alive today have been.  It’s the nature of things.”

            “I went to sleep in my universe, I’d been…………………down to minimal power thanks to my **_stupid sparkmate_** ……………….and then I woke up in an alternative universe just a bit ago.  I seemed to have been there to do something—then I got bounced here apparently.  I must be here to fix something or other.   It’s rather annoying that it’s _me_ , though…………..” Rodimus sighed.

            “Sparkmate?   _That’s_ a new one,” Kicker chuckled.

            Rodimus laughed.  Oh, gosh………….he was in a universe where Cybertronians didn’t have relationships!  Rodimus planted his hands in front of him and leaned forwards.   This Rodimus’ body was a little bulkier than his own.  He’d have to ask young Kicker—what a strange human name, it sounded almost Cybertronian!—about this universe’s Rodimus later on.

            “I take it there’s no such thing as intimate relationships among Cybertronians here?”  He said, quietly, in a nearly conspiratorial voice.  “In my universe, things can be very much like one of your drama-ridden soap operas with Cybertronians.   My sparkmate happens to be one of those who enjoys the strange and passionate things, a _perv_.”

            Kicker facepalmed himself as he caught the inference of Rodimus’ words instantly.  “How in the……..?  Okay, seriously………….. _are you serious_?   You guys **_can’t_** have sex!”  He groaned.

            “We _can_ if we use our holomatter avatars, though………………..that’s no guarantee it’s actually enjoyable to most, since holomatter avatars only have **_basic_** sensations of touch,” Rodimus explained.  “I can’t sense an avatar system here inside this body, so your Cybertronians clearly needed no disguises—no apparition of a driver in vehicle mode or whatever,” he added.   “But I will say that my dear partner has a lot of skill to make basic touch pretty _fantastic_ ,” Rodimus laughed.  He’d been carefully avoiding saying Megatron’s name.   Kicker had named a “Galvatron”………so there may or may not have been a Megatron in this universe—and if there was, he was most likely an “evil Decepticon”.  He simply didn’t want to deal with that explanation now at the moment………..not while he and Kicker had finally found an upbeat mood with one another.

            “You guys,” Kicker chuckled, shaking his head.  Then he stood up and stretched.  “So…….since you’re stuck here, do you want to come with me?”  He asked.  “Rodimus has been the only one who has joined me for this day of remembrance every year for the past six years.   I think it’s because he still feels guilt over letting Alpha-Q’s world be consumed by Unicron………………..”    Then the young man sighed and straddled his motorcycle.   “He knows it wasn’t his fault, but I think he still shoulders some of the blame.”  He kickstarted his motorcycle and revved it a bit.    “Ironhide usually joined me every year, until this year…………..Optimus gave him some new duties and he was too busy now.   Do you think you can transform?”  He asked, looking up at Rodimus as he put on a helmet.

            “I don’t know, let me try………..?”  Rodimus trailed off.  He checked the systems internally and then transformed into the cab portion of a large semi-truck—a different shape semi than what Optimus Prime transformed into on Earth, back in his own universe.  “Pfft…………..this is **_not_** a sleek or sexy vehicle mode at all!”  Rodimus laughed.

            “Okay………..so what do you transform into, back in your universe then?”  Kicker responded, speaking loudly over the sound of his motorcycle’s motor and Rodimus’ motor.

            “A very awesome race car, thank you very much!”  He responded.   “So, lead on………show me where we’re going!”

 

=     =     =     =     =

 

            So, the two drove slow…………moving onto an old, worn dirt path.  If Kicker hadn’t said the planet had been created recently, Rodimus would have assumed the world was quite old.   The one who created this world for Kicker………….this **_Alpha-Q_** …………clearly created the world and its details specifically for Kicker.   While they drove, Kicker told Rodimus about the Rodimus-whose-body-he-was-in.

            A soldier tired of war who wanted to spread the word of peace, he took off in a ship with some crew and went about helping others in need and spreading a message of peace through the universe.  Rodimus realized he had a lot in common with _this universe’s_ Rodimus………..though this universe’s Rodimus was **_older_** than he was.   This universe’s Rodimus was a leader and soldier alongside Optimus Prime millions of years ago……..the two were close as brothers back then, until they had gone separate ways.   Rodimus came back to help in the fight against Unicron………….he had been following Unicron’s path across the universe and that was how he had come to Alpha-Q’s world.   He had promised to save Alpha-Q’s world and could not do it—it had fallen, devoured by Unicron.   It left Alpha-Q angry and scared…………and had left Rodimus scarred.   To try and redeem himself, he had tried to assist Alpha-Q in using Unicron’s creation ability to create a new homeworld.   That was when Megatron—later reformatted to become Galvatron—had stolen Unicron from Alpha-Q, but not before a big confrontation that had led to Alpha-Q finally creating the new worlds it wanted.  Alpha-Q had used the bit it had of Unicron to become the sun for the new handful of planets…………and in doing so, sacrificed its own life to bring the potential for new life into creation.

            Alpha-Q was a _compiled_ life-form………….before its planet’s destruction, all the leaders of their world had merged their minds into a single body.   All that remained of the planet Quintessa and the people of that world, the Quintessons, had become a hive-mind in a single body.   Kicker was the one who was able to get through Alpha-Q’s long-standing pain and they forged a strange friendship in such a very short time.

            “But I had known Alpha-Q _forever_ ………….we spoke to one another in my dreams as I was growing up,” Kicker said with a soft little laugh.   “I just never knew who they were, I only always heard their voices—and we always spoke in a grassy field, like the one we just left.   That’s how I _knew_ ………….. ** _this_** was the world left to me.  There’s another one similar to this—I _thought_ that was the world Alpha-Q left for me, but it wasn’t.  I could tell as soon as I started being able to hear all the others’ inner voices more often.   Alpha-Q came to me in a dream one night…………..a night where I’d been upset into tears, which was unlike me, because of all the voices clamouring around in my head all day…………….and said they had a final, precious gift meant only for me.”

            “This world,” Rodimus murmured.

            “Yeah.   I told everyone to stay off of it—it was off limits for any sort of colonization until I was dead and buried,” Kicker laughed.  “I don’t mind visitors, but I can no longer be around the masses on a long-term basis,” he added, a little sadly.   “ _Sometimes_ I miss it, but I was pretty much a loner anyways.   I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up………….just Misha…………..and we’re a little distant now.   She’s raising our son on her own and rather vehemently refuses any help beyond the monetary, she’s so _stubborn_.  I think she’s just mad I can’t live with her, she thinks I’m **_faking_** hearing all these voices in my head.”

            “Why on Cybertron would you fake something like _that_?   It sounds like a terrible annoyance!”  Rodimus responded, a bit surprised by his statement that the boy’s lifepartner repudiated him over something like that.

            “People always thought I wanted attention, but I really just wanted to be left alone…………..Misha just thinks the expansion of my abilities is just a cry for attention, since the struggles are over and done,” Kicker sighed.   “I can’t help the way others think, _it is what it is_.”

            “It’s true…………..my sparkmate is not a generally accepted individual on my ship, but I have no intention of giving him up anytime soon,” Rodimus said forcefully.   He still wasn’t going to mention Megatron by name, now that he knows of the Megatron in this universe.   “And I was never liked much by people, I used to have a pretty big ego…………there was a reason for that and then there was an accident that took my safety net of an ego from me.   I don’t much care, really…………as long as the people I care about are okay with me, then I’m okay with the way the situations are.”

            “Go with the flow, at least that’s a term we use,” Kicker chuckled.  “It makes things easier when you just go along with things and don’t fight them.  Ah, we’re here!”  He said, bringing his motorcycle to a stop at a large shrine.  Rodimus braked and cut his engines, transforming into this body’s robot mode.

            “Did **_you_** make this shrine?”  Rodimus asked.

            “Well…………I had the idea for it.   Rodimus and Ironhide helped me actually build it.   Some of the Omnicons helped, too.   I wanted to make a place of honor to Alpha-Q, for everything they sacrificed,” Kicker said, removing his helmet as he got off his motorcycle.   “And to thank them for everything they gave to me.”

            “Ummmmm…….your hair’s doing that weird thing again…….?”  Rodimus began, looking down at Kicker.

            “Something else is setting off my Energon sense, this is really strange!”  Kicker muttered, looking around.   Then he looked up into the sky, through the trees in this wooded area.   “It’s………….it’s out there………” he whispered, staring at a spot in the sky.

            Rodimus looked up, but he couldn’t see anything up there.    “In space………..or on one of the other planets in the system?”  He asked, curiously.

            “I can’t tell, but it’s _not_ close to here, so it’s _not_ the other colonized planet,” Kicker murmured.  “Nnnngh, this is going to bother me, so……………I’m going to have to go out there and look for it,” he added, rubbing his temples with a bit of frustration.

            “I’ll go with you, it may be what I’m here for,” Rodimus said, looking back up into the sky.  “It seems as if this form can space travel minor distances, but……………did he use a ship to come here?”  He asked, curiously.

            “Yeah, Rodimus’ ship isn’t too far from where we were when you first hopped into his body,” Kicker responded.   “It’s just a little single-seater speedcraft…………Rodimus tends to just flit about to places.  He doesn’t like settling down, he feels his mission is yet unfinished.”

            “I can empathize with that,” Rodimus laughed warmly.  

 

=      =      =      =      =

 

            So, after Kicker had returned to his home to get his suit— _a real, honest-to-god robotic suit_ —he squished into Rodimus’ little speedcraft with the new Rodimus that wasn’t of his universe.   Actually, as long as he didn’t press any buttons, Kicker could pretty much sit on top of the control panel easily.   He could actually probably **_LOUNGE_** on it if he wanted to.

            “Can you pilot this, Rodimus?”   Kicker asked.

            “ _Pfft_ …………sure.  It’s no different than a personal shuttle back in my universe.   Looks like our language is the same, I recognize **_all_** these Cybertronian symbols.   I’m a pretty decent pilot when I want to be, just that I know there are others that are better,” Rodimus chuckled warmly, flipping a few switches and the engine on the craft began to hum and vibrate a bit.   “So where are we headed?”   He asked.

            “Mmmmmm………..I’ll have to give you a direction once we break through the atmosphere, probably once we reach orbit.   So go slow, if you would,” Kicker responded.  His hair was still floating, all golden and glowing, around his head—even inside of the suit’s helmet that he was wearing.   “It doesn’t feel………..well, I _don’t_ get a sense of danger, to be honest.”

            “You can sense Energon, though—so, could you be sensing Energon on another planet?”  Rodimus asked, pulling the wheel back and the ship tilted and then dashed up towards the atmosphere.

            “Maybe.  It _feels_ a little like Energon…………but not completely like Energon, though,” Kicker sighed.   “I can’t give you more yet………….I can’t hear voices, but I don’t sense danger.   More like………… ** _anticipation_** maybe?”   The young man murmured.

            As soon as the ship hit orbit, Kicker got a good feel of direction and began guiding Rodimus towards it.   It wasn’t a planet that happened to be inhabited in the small planetary system………it was a little bit closer to the sun, however.  Kicker jokingly laughed that he hoped the coolants in his suit were functioning or else he might _melt_.   Rodimus found the young human _interesting_ ………..in a way, the young man felt almost **_Cybertronian_**.   Maybe it was because he had been raised around Cybertronians all his life.

            “ _Seriously_?   You talked back to Optimus Prime?”   Rodimus laughed, warmly.   “Ah man, that would be _awesome_.”

            “Don’t you get along with Optimus back in your universe?”  Kicker asked, curiously.

            “ _Mmmmmm_ ……..it’s debatable nowadays, but I was **_just_** a soldier.  Unless I was one of his close confidants, it didn’t really matter,” Rodimus explained with a sigh.   “I was usually brushed aside because I was young and impetuous.   I **_still_** get brushed aside because Optimus probably will always see me as young and impetuous.”

            “A lot like Hot Shot or Ironhide here in my universe,” Kicker chuckled.   “Oh…… ** _here_** …………….land somewhere around here!   Getting a very strong sense of **_something_** …………….it feels very important!”  The young man said excitedly.

            “It’s………….it’s a **_sparknest_**!”   Rodimus said, excitedly, seeing the hidden glow in the nearby ground.   Not an all-out hotspot, but a sparknest.   Which was just a smaller hotspot, just a few Cybertronian Sparks in it, usually with a natural hidden cover.    He was very careful to land a good distance from it.

            “ _Sparknest_?”   Kicker asked.   “I’m not sure I get it………….” he trailed off.

            “In my universe, we are born from hotspots or sparknests…………it seems odd that this Cybertronian way of being born has come about this way in your universe—since life comes directly from Primus here,” Rodimus explained.

            Kicker smiled at the obvious happiness in Rodimus’ voice.   The Autobot clearly _loved life_.   It seemed strange that he’d basically mentioned how most people didn’t like him…………because Rodimus seemed like a very amiable guy to him.

            “Alpha-Q’s world had a Cybertronian-like life-form…………like Scorponok, Alpha-Q’s bodyguard.   Perhaps, on Quintessa, robotic life came about in _this_ fashion?”  Kicker proposed as they exited the small craft.

            “It’s possible,” Rodimus murmured.   “Be very careful, sparknests and hotspots can be _sensitive_.  Maybe I should stand back…………” he trailed off, remembering the hotspot on Luna I and then he felt a wave of sadness envelop him as he realized that all that life was **_gone_** —all because of him and that fight with Tyrest and all that stuff that happened on Luna I and……………

            “Rodimus…………all of a sudden you’re _very sad_ and I can feel that strongly coming from you,” Kicker said, very seriously, turning to look back at Rodimus.   “What’s wrong?   You were _so happy_ upon seeing the sparknest and now you’re saddened to the point of _depression_ ………….”

            “It’s…………it’s _nothing_.  I think you should go ahead and take a look at it—I’ll guide you from here,” Rodimus murmured.   He held back, his feelings a mixed-up jumble of both sadness and pain.  He wished that the human _couldn’t_ sense his emotions, because those were things he wanted to keep to himself.   That he was such a **_failure_** ………….

            “There’s no **_‘it’s nothing’_** ,” Kicker snapped.   “Why are you so upset?”   He asked, walking back to where Rodimus was standing.  He put his hands on his hips and stared up at Rodimus.

            “I……………I was at a hotspot and _stupid things_ happened and all those Sparks went out.   So……….. ** _stupid_** ,” Rodimus mumbled, too choked up to explain the details of the whole thing to the young human male.   “The first hotspot in _millions of years_ , **_all that life_** , and then snuffed out because of **_stupidity_**.”   Rodimus looked away.   “I _can’t_ go near a hotspot, so……….I’m just not going to go near it, yeah.”

            “ _Rodimus_ …………..” Kicker sighed.  “All right………….so what am I looking for in a hotspot?”  He said, turning back to walk over to the hidden, glowing area.

            “Though probably not important………..the _color_ of the glow.  Blue is a regular Spark, green is something we call a _point-one-percenter_ —a Spark that may have special abilities like strength or a unique power,” Rodimus explained.   “Also the _intensity_ of it……….dim glow means it hasn’t yet matured enough to become a protoform, bright glow means it should start showing signs of the _sentio metallico_ becoming a protoform.  If it is glowing brightly and the _sentio metallico_ isn’t altering its shape…………then…………..there may be a birthing issue.   You’d need a **_Blacksmith_** for that and………………….” Rodimus trailed off.   And clearly there were _no Blacksmiths_ around in this universe…………………….

            Kicker was practically on top of the hotspot and had knelt, carefully pulling back the thick vegetation.  Because it was a hot and dry world, the vegetation was super-hardened and dense wood or fibers, like deadwoods and cacti.   “You’ll need to explain _sentio metallico_ to me…………” he chuckled.   “Is it this soft metal stuff around the Sparks?”  He asked as he finally uncovered a single Spark, glowing a bright and solid blue.

            “Yeah…………that’ll expand and become the body of a protoform.   After they assume a small, generic shape and start understanding the life-coding in their Sparks—they’ll find the form that suits them best,” Rodimus explained.

            “How long does that usually take?   Hours………….months?”  Kicker inquired, because as he peeled back some more vegetation—he found a green Spark that was almost enveloped by the sentio metallico and was becoming a chubby, rounded shape.

            “Depends on the Spark really……………some are _‘slow learners’_ , but some assume their shapes pretty fast.  Usually once a Spark starts growing, they really want to grow and find their form and place in the world,” Rodimus said.  He wondered what Kicker was finding over there.

            Kicker cocked his head curiously at the one that was taking shape, the sentio metallico had almost completely enveloped the Spark as he watched—so this must be one nearly developed into a “protoform” as Rodimus called it.  In other words, about to be “birthed”.   It almost looked………….reptilian, maybe?   The chubby, rounded shape had suddenly become something with four limbs and a little animalistic.  

            “ ** _OH!_**    A _dinosaur_!”  Kicker laughed, finally recognizing the shape the protoform was taking.  

            “You’ve got a protoform there?   It has a _shape_?”  Rodimus called, a bit anxious.

            “Yeah, looks a little like one of our Earth dinosaurs,” Kicker chuckled warmly.   “Kind of cute, really……a chubby little metal Tyrannosaurus.”

            “It’s in a _beast mode_?”  Rodimus asked, his voice full of surprise.   Most Cybertronian protoforms didn’t change into their alt mode until after they’d gained some size and sentience.    Unless………this wasn’t its alt mode.  _Like Ravage_.   A wave of sadness swept over him as he remembered his sarcastic Decepticon friend.

            “Is that not normal?”  Kicker asked, looking away from the sparknest and back towards Rodimus.

            “I don’t know………….for **_us_** , it’s generally not.  There are a few with bestial primary modes, but those are very rare.   We don’t change into our alt mode until we’ve fully formed up, but maybe for your Alpha-Q’s robotic species, it’s normal?”  Rodimus called back.

            “Scorponok had a _scorpion_ mode………….it’s possible that robotic life was primarily bestial for Quintessa.  The Terrorcons were **_all_** in beast modes as their primary mode,” Kicker answered, even though he had seen a few of them use a robotic mode when they needed to explore more—but it never felt like their primary mode to him.  Though the Terrorcons were likely not actually Quintesson natives, they **_may have been_** based on Quintessa’s native robotic life-forms, since they were created through Alpha-Q’s link to Unicron’s life-shaping abilities.   Ironhide had remarked that even Scorponok seemed a bit like a Terrorcon sometimes.

            “How many Sparks are there, Kicker?”  Rodimus asked.   In his universe there were originally five Dinobots……………..he wondered if this could be **_this_** universe’s version of the Dinobots?   Though………..originally the Dinobots were “ _Dynobots_ ” and did not have the bestial alt modes (they had standard vehicular alt modes) until Shockwave messed with their forms and systems.

            “I’m coming up with **_six_**.  One is very small, but it seems to be the very brightest of them all.  One, the one that looks like a chubby Tyrannosaur, has a large green Spark,” Kicker reported.

            Suddenly Rodimus heard a tiny squeaky bit of squalling and gathered it must be Kicker’s “chubby little Tyrannosaur” testing its voice.   It formed up _very fast_ ……….it may be because it was the way the natural formation happened to be for Spark-life in this universe, or it may be because it could be a point-one-percenter.   Rodimus so badly wanted to go and look at the sparknest, but he was _scared_ …………because of everything that happened on Luna I.

            “Rodimus, **_dammit_** …………..get your ass over here, I can feel your longing and your sorrow quite sharply—but I think seeing this little guys will help you get over whatever issue you have going on in your head,” Kicker snapped, a little annoyance in his voice because Rodimus’ emotions were giving him a severe headache, glancing back at him and motioning with one of his hands.

            Rodimus took a hesitant step and stopped and then, his longing to see the little ones overwhelmed his sense of grief and he carefully came up to the edge of the sparknest.   He saw the squalling little “chubby Tyrannosaur” and a great warmth flooded through him.  **_New life_** …………it was _wonderful and amazing_.   After seeing so much death recently, his entire being was filled with so much joy to see new Cybertronian life—even if it wasn’t exactly **_his_** version of Cybertronian life.   The little newborn dinobot gave a weirdly-happy purring sound, looking up at Rodimus, then gave a long howling-like sound, rocking back and forth on its larger back feet………….it seemed excited and happy to be alive.   Rodimus couldn’t blame it………….life, when you’re new to the world, is **_absolutely amazing_**.

            “What are you going to do with these little guys?” Rodimus asked, squatting down and lightly patting the newborn dinobot gently with a couple of fingers.   “Ah, all these Sparks are going to form up very shortly……..the _sentio metallico_ is looking very malleable.”

            “I guess I can take care of them on my world for awhile………….but if they get to be too much, I may have to call Cybertron to take them away,” Kicker sighed, standing up and walking around the sparknest to look at all six Sparks.

            “I think **_you_** should take care of them until they can care for themselves and then bring them back here,” Rodimus said.   “There’s a reason they formed up on **_this_** world, instead of yours.   This world must be **_theirs_**.   Then you’ll need to show them how to help _others_ grow…………..because maybe there will be more sparknests here?”  Then Rodimus paused.  “Are you sensing any more of them right now?”  He asked, suddenly looking around.

            “Not at the moment, but………..it feels like there’s some type of Energon here, just not the kind I’m used to sensing,” Kicker responded, looking around.   His hair hadn’t changed color, now that the primary issue had been discovered and dealt with.   “As long as they have Energon, then at least they have food,” the young human chuckled.

            “Speaking of, I should go try to find some of that Energon for these little guys,” Rodimus said, standing up and stretching.  

            The little Tyrannosaur, with its skin nearly solidified and shining, began hopping up and down on its back feet, trying to jump up to Rodimus’ height or something like that.

            “That’s _cute_ …he _likes_ you, Rodimus,” Kicker chuckled.   “But I should go find the Energon…………you won’t be able to touch it.  In **_this_** universe, Cybertronians cannot touch raw Energon unless you’re an Omnicon.”  Kicker dug around in the belt pouch of his suit and threw out a disc-like object that expanded into a hoverboard.   “I’ll be back in a little bit, watch over the sparknest.”

 

=      =       =       =      =

 

            Kicker slid about on his hoverboard, trying to home in on the weird vibes of the Energon he was sensing.   It wasn’t until he came upon a pond that was a bit in the distance from the sparknest that he realized why his sense of Energon was different—the **_LAKE_** was filled with Energon!   He had to wonder about the purity of it, until he knelt and examined the land around the lake—the pool for the lake was of a metallic substance.   It was clearly _crafted and created_.   It must have been in Alpha-Q’s designs for the worlds.   Kicker had to wonder if _this_ planet was like Quintessa, then…………….if it had the robotic life that he surmised Quintessa must’ve had, due to Scorponok’s design.   Alpha-Q said it created Scorponok from “races” of its world, so Scorponok had to have basis on an original life-form of Quintessa.

            Quintessa had a robotic animal life-form, native to the world………..and the people of Quintessa?   Though Alpha-Q’s sadness never allowed it to share the views of its people in _any_ of the images it showed Kicker of its world—Kicker _did_ know it was a desert world with a myriad of robotic animal species on it.   Since Alpha-Q had some organic bits to it, Kicker figured that the other natives of Quintessa may have been a hybrid robot/organic species, cyborgs of a sort.

            He tested the comm link in his suit, hoping that the Rodimus that was in this universe’s Rodimus’ body was able to answer via comm link.

            “Hey, Rodimus…………..I’ve found the Energon.  The reason why it’s so weird to me is that it’s in liquid form,” Kicker said.

            ~ ** _Engex_**?  _Naturally formed Engex_?~  Rodimus responded, a soft laugh to his voice.

            “I take it you’re familiar with it.   Energon here tends to be in a volatile crystallized ore form, so this is very different to me,” Kicker said and smiled.   Rodimus must be playing with the protoforms.   Which means at least one more of them probably has formed up by now.   According to Rodimus, protoforms didn’t form this fast…………but perhaps the life on Quintessa did form faster.   Seeing the protoforms made Rodimus happy—though with some small bit of sadness tainting that joy.

            Whatever happened to Rodimus on this Luna I incident he had glossed over—it must have left him with some pretty deep scars.   It was not unlike the Rodimus who existed in this universe.   And like the Rodimus that Kicker knew………….this other Rodimus buried his pain so deeply so that he didn’t bother others with it.   Surely he shared his pain and sadness with the one he called a “ _sparkmate_ ”?   Though, the concept of **_THAT_** amused Kicker, too.   Cybertronians here only had a bond of friendship and brotherhood, it never went any further than that.

            But to also utilize a holographic projection program to _enjoy sex_?   Now that was highly amusing—and certainly **_NO CYBERTRONIAN_** here would ever consider it!   He did notice that Rodimus _never_ mentioned his lifepartner by name, so it means that he was likely hiding it for a reason.  Most likely because………it would be a name similar to _someone_ in this universe, which Rodimus felt might upset people here.   That meant it was someone who was a _Decepticon_ here…………and probably **_not_** one that was well-liked at all.   That eliminated pretty much everyone he knew, except for _Megatron/Galvatron_.   Because **_most_** of the other Decepticons could roll with the uneasy peace that had come after the first fight with Unicron………….Demolishor had been the kindest of all and found it so very hard to compromise his loyalty to Megatron and the peace he had been enjoying, he joined with Megatron again at the end and was reformatted—but it had been _very hard_ for him.   Well…………he supposed there was Shockblast and his brother as well (both of whom were absolutely insane), but more likely than anything **_Megatron_** would be Kicker’s guess.   The Megatron in the other Rodimus’ universe must be very different indeed, especially to come to a point where he could love and cherish another person.

            Kicker frowned as he walked around the pool of Engex, he couldn’t possibly carry any of **_this_** back to the protoforms…………………

            “Rodimus……………could the protoforms come here for the Engex?” Kicker asked over the intercom system.

            _~They’ve all formed up now………..though the smallest one cannot walk too well as of yet.   I **might** be able to bring them, in vehicle mode, but I’d need you to come back here to keep them from falling off as I drive,~_ Rodimus responded.  _~Have you thought of naming them yet?   I mean, **usually** they’ll keep the names someone gives them until they grow up and decide on a **cooler** name, of course…………..~ _ he trailed off.

            Kicker laughed, clearly Rodimus was one of **_those_** Cybertronians like that…………..named something at birth and chose a different name later!   He hopped on his hoverboard and was back quickly.

            “So what was **_your_** name?”  Kicker asked as the “chubby little Tyrannosaur”—now as tall as Kicker’s hips—butted into him happily.   He patted the little dinobot’s head fondly.

            “Errr……..well, I was called **_‘Hot Rod’_** a long time ago………….” Rodimus murmured, kinda scratching his cheek nervously.

            “Young and impetuous, right?”  Kicker chuckled.   “Do I have to name them _Cybertronian-sounding_ names?   Or can I give them Earth names?”

            “Says the **_human_** with a very _Cybertronian-sounding_ name,” Rodimus teased.

            “ ** _Yes_** , and therefore I’d rather name them something _nice and cute_ ,” Kicker laughed in response to the teasing.   “Let me observe them awhile and then I’ll decide what names suit them.”

            Rodimus nodded and transformed into the vehicle mode for the body that he was in.   Kicker put the Tyrannosaur into Rodimus’ front seat and made sure to shut the door and cautioned Rodimus to lock it—the guy seemed excessively energetic and curious, so he wanted to keep him safe at the moment.   Rodimus did roll down the window a bit so the little Tyrannosaur could stick his head out.   It reminded Kicker of a dog in a car, back on Earth.   Then Kicker lifted the smaller ones up onto the back portion of the cab, which was flat and only had a single post structure designed to hook a trailer to.   There was a Stegosaur, a Brontosaur, a Triceratops, a Pterodactyl and something that may be a tiny little Velociraptor.   The tiny Ptero kept flapping her wings, Kicker just felt from the mild emotional thoughts he was getting from the newborns, he could tell their genders by their thoughts.  The tiny Ptero and tiny Raptor both felt “female” to him………….the Tyranno was definitely “male” to him, but he felt that the Bronto, Stego and Trike were all “male” as well.

            “All right, kids, come here………..close to me,” Kicker said to the tiny dinobots, motioning gently with his hands.   He was sitting crosslegged and had hooked a cord from his suit to the trailer post.

            The little Ptero launched herself at Kicker and went splat against his chest, recovering quickly though, he chuckled softly and held her in his arms, the others all climbed into a little pile of mini robot dinosaurs in his lap.

            “I think we’re good to go now, Rodimus,” Kicker said via comms, rather than loudly and trying to talk over the sound of his engines.   “Head northeast, on your radar you should find a clearing and a lake—the lake is the pool of Engex.”

            It was a much longer amount of time to get there, given that Rodimus was pretty much moving at a crawl for any sort of wheeled vehicle.   Kicker could hear the springs of Rodimus’ seating, meaning he thought that the little Tyranno was jumping up and down excitedly while hanging his head out the window.

            “That is **_amazing_** ,” Rodimus murmured, via comms, as he saw the pool of Engex straight ahead.   “Swerve would kill to have a pure base Engex source like this—that’s for sure!”  He chuckled.

            “Swerve?”  Kicker inquired.

            “Member of my crew………metallurgist by job assignment, but bartender by desire,” Rodimus answered, slowly coming to a stop near the pool.

            Kicker laughed, realizing that liquid form of Energon such as this—was basically like alcoholic drinks to a human.   Well, why not?   “Okay, so the kids aren’t going to get drunk on this stuff, are they?”  Kicker asked, as he helped all the dinobots off the back and then opened the door for the Tyranno to jump out.  

            Rodimus transformed into the primary form for this universe’s version of himself and stretched.  “ _Shouldn’t_.   Additives to liquid Energon are what give it the boost—besides, they won’t have developed _f.i.m._ chips yet and will only drink enough to satisfy their fuel needs,” Rodimus answered.   “After their _f.i.m._ chips have formed—they can turn them on and off at will, to _‘get drunk’_ as you humans say.”

            “Pfft…………..can they **_swim_** in it, because I think half of them just jumped in?”  Kicker laughed as he saw the Tyranno hop into a shallow end of the pool, followed by the Stego and Trike, and start playing in the Engex like little kids in a wading pool.

            “It _should_ be okay.   They seem of a different nature than Cybertronians proper………..which may be the way things were on this Quintessa,” Rodimus answered.   “Kicker………..I’m feeling a bit tired so……………I think my work may be done here.   This whole thing started when I went to sleep and sleep seems to be the trigger.”

            “All right, why don’t you rest and I’ll explain things to Rodimus when he wakes back up?”  Kicker chuckled.   “It was nice meeting you……………and good luck getting back home!”

            “Thanks…………and good luck to you, as well,” Rodimus murmured.  He laid out on the ground and let himself drift off into unconsciousness……………………

 

*      *      *      *     *

 

                Rodimus heard the sounds of battle winding down around him………..but strangely his senses were off.   He _couldn’t see_ for one thing!   And everything sounded _muted_ ………..like he was listening through water or something.    But one thing was very clear.....………..his own voice, although he was not actually speaking.   But………it _was_ him, wasn’t it?

                “Is everyone alright?”  The voice that sounded like Rodimus’ was saying to someone or multiple someones.

                “Everyone is safe, Autobot-san,” an oddly accented voice responded, but it was flat, monotone—Rodimus could tell that even through the odd muted sounds he was hearing.   It had to be a _human_ , then.

                “That’s one piece of good news, at any rate,” Rodimus chuckled.

                Rodimus wondered why he was speaking but not consciously speaking.   Even if he had somehow weirdly dimension-hopped again—shouldn’t he be in control of the version of his body that he was in?   And if he wasn’t……………then **_how_** could he be here to affect anything?   And how would he get home?   Would he _ever_ get home?

                **{Just listen………….for now, you must listen and learn,}** a strange voice said, only to him.  **{And then guide this one to make the right decision…………..because he is about to make a very bad decision that could endanger the universe.}**

                The strange voice had a warmth to it.   A particular warmth that was foreign to Rodimus…………..but in a way, very oddly familiar.   As if the voice was a voice he had always known, but had never met.   Could it be the voice of Primus?   Was _Primus_ really guiding him on this strange, body-hopping journey?    But for some reason, Rodimus didn’t think it was Primus…………..the voice felt too gentle for the ancient warrior God—and even Primus after became the Guiding Hand, he was still a master of his own destiny.   No, this voice sounded like the voice of a _teacher_ , not a God that pushed a pawn down a path of destiny.

**{To assist you, I shall grant you access to this one’s systems so that you can see and experience what he is experiencing.   However, you cannot yet influence him…………….you will know when the time is right to help him make the right decision,}** the voice continued and then Rodimus was able to experience things through this new Rodimus’ senses.

                “Hey, I am well aware of the damage that’s been done, but we stopped the Decepticons from………..” Rodimus trailed off.   The Rodimus that had been placed here could feel the frustration from the one whose body he was in………..he was speaking to a group of humans at an ornately designed human habitat.   Rodimus recognized it from some of the Japanese manga he and Ravage had been reading together months ago back on the _Lost Light_.   This was the Imperial Palace in Japan…………on Earth.

                “Rodimus Prime!   This is very bad for business here!”  The Prime Minister was arguing.   “The property damage alone is catastrophic…………..and you frighten the citizens, as well as scaring tourists away!”  The older Japanese man was continuing.

                _Rodimus Prime_ , eh?   So here in this universe, his alternative self was the _Leader of the Autobots_.   But, Rodimus could feel waves of angst inside of him……………of low self-worth.

                “Yeah, that so?” Rodimus Prime snapped, his frustration and internal angst growing.  “Then maybe you oughta try protecting yourselves!”  He growled.

                Rodimus cringed inside.   _Oooooh, that was bad._    No matter what, _this_ was a situation to keep calm in.   The humans were never very comfortable around giant robots that could destroy them in a blink………even if the Japanese had a lot of anime that contained giant robots—a love for them in media was **_not_** the same as a love for them in reality.

                “Your presence, and the presence of others like you, does indeed endanger us!”  The Prime Minister yelled back.

                “ _Tch_ ,” Rodimus Prime muttered, letting the humans squabble as he just walked away.

                _‘ **Noooooooooooooooooo**!   God, don’t do that…………it makes things **worse**!’_ Rodimus internally screamed in defiance.   He may not be a fan of the humans of Earth, but if you’re a leader……….you really _do_ have to put up with these stupid things sometimes!

                Eventually Rodimus Prime made it back to the Autobot Embassy in Japan and was stopped by Kup outside.   Rodimus was just frustrated and upset that the humans wouldn’t even listen to the fact that the Decepticons could care less about respect and honesty.    They would come back to try and find energy sources to convert into Energon, whether Autobots were there or not………….and if they weren’t, then the property damage would be more than a few buildings here and there.

                “Heck of a day!”  Kup said, with a cheerful tone in his voice.  He’d anticipated his leader’s mood and was trying to boost it a little.

                Rodimus Prime simply kicked at the pavement and sighed.  “Tell me about it, I was at the Imperial Palace all afternoon with the Prime Minister,” he mumbled, sighing some more.

                “Eh?”  Kup responded, tilting his head curiously, then he patted Rodimus on the shoulder.  “You’ve had worse times,” he added, still trying to keep a little bit of good cheer in his voice.

                “When do they get _better,_ that’s what I want to know?!”   Rodimus Prime grumbled, still kicking at a spot on the pavement and not even looking up at Kup.

                Rodimus listened as Kup tried to get this Rodimus Prime to talk about how he was feeling.   There was a lot of grumbling about the pressures of being leader and nobody was really having any patience with him—it was all brand-new and he was feeling cornered, like he wanted to run away from it all.   Now _that_ was a feeling Rodimus was familiar with…………..sometimes it felt as if the only solution was to run away, he had done it on several occasions himself.    But running away was a childish thing, Rodimus _knew_ it.   Now he had Megatron to help him keep acting like a grown-up, Rodimus _wanted_ to be better………….because Megatron believed in him.   It felt like here in _this universe_ , Rodimus Prime personally felt like there was nobody believed in him…………..and when you felt like that, the universe was a very sad and lonely place.

                It seemed like Kup was slowly getting him to settle down and start feeling a little better about himself when suddenly a small Earth car, with a very odd shape came driving up to the Autobot Embassy.   A human woman got out, she had long and wavy reddish-brown hair.   This human resembled the Earth human liason to Cybertron back in Rodimus’ universe, _Marissa Faireborn_ —only with wavy reddish-brown hair to her shoulders, not the long hair in a neat ponytail.   But her voice also sounded different, _this_ Marissa had an accented voice from the European regions on Earth.   She immediately began complaining to Rodimus that Earth Defense Command needed him to do something, but Rodimus Prime simply moaned and cut her off.

                “Not _you_ , too!   Gimme a break will ya?”  The young Autobot Leader cried.  “Since when am I the **_only one_** who can solve everybody’s problems?”  He snapped.

                “But……… _but_ …………?”  Marissa trailed off.

                “Just leave me alone!”   Rodimus Prime yelled, he transformed into his vehicle mode—an old-style Earth camper trailer—and sped off.

 

-      -     -     -     -

 

                Rodimus Prime had scanned the roads and there was no traffic for miles and miles, so he just peeled out and raced at high speed on the lonely night roads on the outskirts of the city.    Though, granted, a camper trailer would not have the speed and maneuvering a race car mode would have!   The other Rodimus inside of him had to admit, racing cleared the head………….just the focus on the speed and pace made everything else melt away.   Rodimus hated racing, only because of how Nyon handled the racing sport…………..he never hated racing itself.

                He was hoping to figure out a bit more about the Rodimus Prime here, so he could figure out how to _help_ him……………but since all of the Autobot’s focus was on zipping around the curves and feeling the speed, Rodimus wasn’t privy to any of this other self’s feelings or thoughts at the moment.

                In his rearviews, Rodimus Prime suddenly saw two racecars behind him…………..Dead End and Wildrider—two of the Stunticons.   They were speeding to catch up with him—likely to harass an “uncool” vehicle mode of an Autobot.   The daredevil inside of Rodimus Prime got excited about racing and proving his skills against the two Stunticons.   But, then, suddenly he saw the third vehicle behind the Stunticons—Marissa’s little Spinner.

                Dead End and Wildrider saw her, too.   And their desire to taunt an Autobot was _nowhere near_ their desire to mess with a human.   They fell back to harass Marissa’s vehicle.    For a moment, Rodimus was tempted by the speed to just go off and race alone as he had been tonight…………..but he _couldn’t_ allow anyone to get hurt as long as he was there.   Rodimus Prime spun himself about, his trailer’s weight making the spin hard and fast and then was about to transform and help Marissa when Wildrider slammed right into his front end.

                There was a harsh crunch of metal and with Rodimus’ massive trailer giving momentum from the spin, he couldn’t brake fast enough to prevent being knocked back into the edge railing of the winding mountain path.   His trailer wheels were over the edge before he knew it and the weight of the trailer dragged him over the edge.   Rodimus Prime flipped over-and-over down the edge of the mountain until he crashed front end first into a pile of boulders at the bottom.

                Inside of Rodimus Prime, Rodimus gave a terrified scream as he sensed all the ruptured fuel lines and smashed servos, but what scared him the most was feeling the front end of this Rodimus’ front end popping open and the Matrix of Leadership getting knocked out of the setting in [what was normally] his chest.    He did _everything_ he could to push against Rodimus Prime’s senses— _trying to wake him up_.   The Matrix couldn’t be left laying out in the open like that!

                _‘Wake up, wake up, **wake up**!’_ Rodimus screamed…………but this universe’s Rodimus Prime was completely offline with too many internal injuries.

                It was too late when both of the Stunticons came to check on the damage and saw the Matrix laying there next to the immobile camper trailer.    They took it with them and the Rodimus inside of Rodimus Prime went ballistic, screaming his head off, trying **_desperately_** to wake this universe’s version of himself up.   As much as he could get out of Rodimus Prime was only transforming into his _primary mode_ …………but he was still _offline_ ……..and the damage had been done.

                Though Rodimus Prime was offline, Rodimus could see through his alternative self’s optics and noticed Marissa up at the edge of the road where they’d fallen from.   She was calling for assistance and not long after, the Protectobots arrived to come and make sure their leader got back to headquarters.   Rodimus had no choice but to watch as First Aid patched up Rodimus Prime’s body.   And eventually this universe’s version of him finally came back online.   He seemed surprised to see so many people staring at him.

                Ultra Magnus was there………….as well as Kup, Springer, Arcee, Marissa and the Protectobots.

                “ ** _Oh!_**    My aching head!”  He groaned, sitting up.  “What _hit_ me?”   He asked, looking around at everyone.   “What hit **_you_**?   What are you all staring at—you look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

                Ultra Magnus leaned down slightly and placed his large hands on Rodimus’ shoulders.  “We have…….. ** _Hot Rod_** ,” he answered, all-too-seriously.

                “ _Hot Rod_ ………?”  He murmured, taking too long for the words to sink in.   Inside of him, Rodimus was going nuts…………. _the Matrix_!   They _needed_ to get back the Matrix.

                **{You now are seeing the dilemma.   You still cannot affect him yet, but you will be able to do so soon,}** that warm voice said to Rodimus again.

                “How do you feel, Roddy?   Strong enough to go after ‘em?” Springer asked, punching a fist into a palm and feeling ready for a fight.

                Rodimus felt the rush of desire in Hot Rod………….but it was in utterly the wrong direction.

                “Wait a minute?   What’s the rush?”   Hot Rod laughed warmly.

                Ultra Magnus frowned and crossed his arms.  “The Matrix is the essence of the Autobots.   Our link to our history and the future.   Without it…………….” he trailed off.

                “Aren’t you getting a little carried away here?”  Hot Rod retorted, getting upset that they’re all getting so upset.  “I’m still me…………you’re still you.  _Matrix-shmatrix_!”   He snapped.

                **_‘OHMYGOD…………….NO, DON’T SAY THAT!!!’_**   The Rodimus inside of him snapped, if he had been in his own body, he was sure he would’ve damaged it with the shouting.

                “Hot Rod, listen to what you’re saying!”  Marissa admonished.

                Hot Rod leapt up from the medical slab and angrily faced his friends.   He raised a hand, pointing at them all.  “I know _exactly_ what I’m saying!”   Hot Rod yelled.  “I’m telling you— ** _all_** _of you!_ —that I’m sick of being responsible for the preservation of the universe and its outlying suburbs!”  He growled, fiercely……..finally letting all his feelings of angst and self-loathing out with his words.   “Day in and day out………..punch this Decepticon, bash that Decepticon— _what’s the point_?!   This has been going on for a few dozen millennia now and I don’t see a changing, do you?”   Hot Rod snapped, his feelings gone beyond the boiling point.   If only they had all understood how he felt.   If only someone could have _helped_ him……………..could have _believed in him_ just a little bit more!   He was done with all of them…………   “You want the Matrix back?   Swell………….go and get it!   But find some other sucker to carry it, because I quit!”   Hot Rod cried, running for the door and transforming into his race car vehicle form as soon as he was outside.

 

-       -      -      -      -

 

                Hot Rod sat, in vehicle form, for _hours_ ……………..just parked at the beach and watching the waves and the sun sparkling on them.   He had no idea what to do now.   _Nobody_ believed in him as a leader………..it was all “Optimus Prime wouldn’t…………” or “That’s not how Optimus would…………” when people said things to him.   He would never have a chance to be seen for the leader that _he could be_ , instead of living in the shadow of Optimus Prime.   It just _wasn’t fair_.   He _missed_ his life before becoming leader…….before Optimus Prime _died_.   Flirting with Arcee…………spending time with his best human friend, Daniel.    Simple things like that.

                **_If only_** people _believed_ in him.   He _knew_ what he was doing, but the insane pressure everyone put upon him just prevented him from doing what he knew was right to do.

                _‘I know how you feel,’_ Rodimus thought, listening to Hot Rod’s sad and aching feelings spin around in his head like a grand prix race.    What would _Drift_ do right now?   A way to settle down and focus……….?   He’d probably meditate or even do some _T’ai Chi_ , a martial art he’d learned on Earth that was more like a combination of meditation and exercise.   _‘What about that dojo you saved earlier?   Why don’t you go there and meditate with the students?’_ Rodimus said inside of Hot Rod’s head.   He _hoped_ that Hot Rod would hear him right now.

                Suddenly Hot Rod started his engine and backed out of the parking lot, driving somewhere.   It surprised Rodimus to see that Hot Rod went to the dojo.    Maybe it was starting to become time for Hot Rod to hear his words……..like the voice said?

                “Ah, Prime-san, welcome back,” the master of the dojo greeted warmly.  He had been sitting on the porch-like area drinking some tea.

                “Mmmm……just call me Hot Rod, okay?”  He responded.   “I was wondering if I might sit in on your class today, if it would be alright?”  Hot Rod asked.

                “It is no problem, Hot Rod-san,” The master answered with a smile on his face.

                The dojo happened to just be large enough for Hot Rod to sit down in—an Autobot like Ultra Magnus would never be able to fit.   But Hot Rod was able to kneel in _seiza_ , properly to the dojo customs, and watch the class.    They were speaking Japanese, but Hot Rod turned his translator over to that language to listen to the lessons of the day.   Deep inside of Hot Rod, Rodimus also listened to the class…………he was at least relieved that Hot Rod had finally wound down and settled down.    He somehow needed to persuade Hot Rod to go after the Matrix of Leadership—for one thing, it should _not ever_ be in the hands of the Decepticons, not if there was a war going on here in this universe.   It would be a _very bad thing_.   Secondly, Hot Rod needed to find more confidence in himself.   He _needed_ to believe he was the leader that the Matrix had chosen— ** _THE MATRIX HAD CHOSEN HIM._** That was _not_ to be taken lightly, it meant a lot.  

                The sensei had been talking to the class about the Art of War—and how it should also be tempered with the Art of Peace.   Everything needed to have balance………….concepts portrayed as “good” and “evil” must always have one another to exist—one could not forever conquer another, because then there is no longer balance in the universe.   Everything had an equal and an opposite…………the concept of Yin and Yang.   Everyone had this mix of dark and light inside of them…….when one listened to their “light”, they were good and they did good things.  But when they were “too good”, they could become a danger to themselves and others.   When one listened to their “dark”, they became twisted by their hopes and ideals and did dark things to themselves and others.   Only those who knew how to use BOTH their light and their dark were truly alive and worthy of being in the world………those who had balance were the ones who would shape the destiny of the universe.

                Hot Rod………and Rodimus inside of him………..watched the class as they learned their lessons and practiced combat with the _shinai_ (bamboo practice swords).   The rhythmic clack-clash-clack of the _shinai_ lulled Hot Rod into something like a trance.   The words sank in, driving into the depths of his being.   Without even realizing it, the class had ended and the students began to leave after putting their equipment away, and the sensei walked over to Hot Rod.

                “You are troubled, Hot Rod-san?”  The teacher asked, tilting his head lightly to one side as he gazed up at the young Cybertronian.   His grey-white mid-length hair brushed his shoulders as he made the gesture.

                “Who me?”  Hot Rod chuckled, smiling broadly—but the smile was fake.   “ _Nahhhh_ ………” he added, shaking his head.

                “You are _lying_ ,” the sensei said with a light chuckle.

                “Yeah, I am,” Hot Rod agreed, at last sharing an honest laugh.   He began to ask questions about the lessons of the day.   About the Yin-Yang thing.   And then about how to abandon thought during combat.   Hot Rod wasn’t sure how a battle could truly be won without thinking about it.

                “One cannot think of victory without also thinking of its opposite,” the teacher responded.

                “ _Defeat_ ,” Hot Rod answered, nodding, following along from the lesson earlier.

                “And _thinking of defeat_ distracts the mind from what must be done in order to **_win_** ,” the sensei added.

                Hot Rod stopped to think upon that idea.   The teacher wasn’t actually saying to abandon knowledge or strategy, but to basically say not to think too hard when you’re in combat.   You should _focus_ , but _not dwell_ on what you’re doing.   Follow your instincts and feelings, but do not become overwhelmed by them.   Hot Rod kind of understood that…………Ultra Magnus had said some similar things to him before.   The sensei waited patiently as Hot Rod processed these ideas, awaiting the young Cybertronian’s next question.

                “Alright, gotcha…………….and what must be done in order to win?”  Hot Rod asked.

                “Whatever destiny obliges one to do—one’s **_giri_** ,” the sensei answered.   “For he who deserts his obligation is already defeated.”

                Hot Rod’s head jerked up, a look of pain crossing his faceplate.  

                _‘Hey you……. **other me** —it’s time you go get the Matrix.  That’s **your** destiny!’_  Rodimus said, encouraging this other version of himself.  He hoped that Hot Rod heard him.   As for himself—he needed to get home to fulfill his own destiny.  He hoped he could go home soon, but _right now_ ………….he needed to make sure Hot Rod got back on the right track.

                Hot Rod suddenly smiled, warmly, dipping his shoulders low to the teacher of this dojo.   “Thank you, sensei—you’ve given me a lot to think about,” he said, finally focused on what it was he needed to do.  

                As soon as Hot Rod crawled out of the dojo, he stood up, looking at the sunset.   His legs were a little achy from being in _seiza_ all this time.    Suddenly the sounds of battle and smoke trailing up over the tall buildings in nearby downtown Tokyo caught his attention.   He felt the pull of the Matrix and _knew_ it was there.   It was time to reclaim his destiny.   He transformed into his race car mode and sped towards the city.    He followed his feelings, the pull of the Matrix that he was so familiar with—and eventually encountered Scourge, who had been mutated by the power of the Matrix.

                “I see now it **_is_** my obligation!”  Hot Rod growled, tackling Scourge and slamming him into the nearby wall in the alleyway.   “I _belong to it_ —as much as **_it belongs to me_**!”

                When Scourge’s chestplate popped open, Hot Rod scooped the Matrix of Leadership out of it and placed it securely back in his own chest.  It fit just _perfectly_.   His body readjusted slightly and he knew he was back to being Rodimus Prime.

                **{Thank you,}** the gentle voice said to Rodimus, who was still inside of Rodimus Prime.   **{Do you understand what I’ve been trying to teach you in all these journeys?}**

                ‘ _I think so. **Leadership** ,’_ Rodimus responded, thinking back to the first place he had been, where Hot Rod had been killed before he could assume a great destiny.  _‘A love for life…… **compassion** ,’_ he continued as he thought about Kicker and his new tiny dinobot friends _.  ‘ **Obligation** ………….the ability to do what you need to do, even when it seems you are powerless to do anything,’_ he finished, listening to Rodimus Prime’s courageous thoughts as he regained his place amongst his fellow Autobots.  _‘But **who** are you…………..and why do you feel I needed to learn all these things?’_  He asked of the kind and warm voice inside of him.

                **{Because you are soon to find yourself faced with your destiny,}** the voice answered.  **{Darkness is coming and to protect the balance………….light must be found to stand against it.   You will find that light…….it is your destiny to find my light.}**

                _‘But **who** are you?   Are you **Primus**?’_ Rodimus cried, he felt his spirit being loosed and unconsciousness was starting to overwhelm him.

                **{You will learn who I am soon enough, lifebearer,}** the voice responded, sending Rodimus into full unconsciousness.

 

*       *      *      *      *

 

            Rodimus woke up on the recharge slab in the small room he had sought out back in the Necrobot’s citadel.   He was a bit disoriented and disjointed when he woke up and didn’t even notice Megatron hovering over him.   He sat up and his head klonked loudly against Megatron’s chin, bouncing him back down on the recharge slab.

            “Wha………… _Megatron…_ ……?” Rodimus gasped, staring up at his sparkmate, who was rubbing his aching jaw.   “Whoa!   Sorry, _sorry_ ………….I didn’t know you were there!”  He apologized quickly, waving his hands.   Then he smiled…………..a smile that felt too big and too goofy for him, but showing all of his happiness and joy at being back to the place where the one he loved was waiting for him.   He reached up and cupped Megatron’s helmet, gently pulling his sparkmate’s head down so that their foreheads touched.   It was one of his _favorite_ gestures of warmth and love.

            “Are you alright, Rodimus?”  Megatron asked, concern coloring his deep and rough voice.   “You were asleep longer than what you set your cycle for and I was about to ask every doctor here to come in and get you awake………………” he trailed off, softly, aware at how close their faces were and his faceplate colored with a soft blush.

            “ _Tee-hee_ …………..you’re **_blushing_** , old man,” Rodimus giggled softly.   “I’m fine, _don’t worry_.   I got just the right amount of rest.   Dreams made me think of many things that we need to do and that need to be done.   I had a thought and I wanted to ask if people might be interested in it.”    He wasn’t going to tell Megatron about his strange, almost “ ** _spiritual_** ” journey— _Megatron_ wouldn’t believe it.  _Drift_ would, though……maybe he’d eventually tell Drift.   But for now, it left him very thoughtful.

            “A _thought_?”  Megatron inquired, standing up straight as Rodimus indicated he wanted to sit up on the recharge slab.

            “What if……..?   I mean, once we get the ship back………..wouldn’t it be nice if we could have a place to sometimes come back to and rest?”  Rodimus began, motioning with his hands absently.   “I don’t think we should just abandon this world, not with what it holds in its center.   I don’t want to really cyberform it either, I think Censerre’s visual admonishments should stand.   But Deathsaurus and Tarn made sure a lot of property destruction happened and instead of leaving it a wreck…………we _could_ make it **_habitable_**.   There are a lot of others here, **_lost_** ……………times they came from no longer exist.   Some are Decepticons who need to come to terms with the fact that the war is over………….some are Autobots who are still stunned that the war is over.   Why don’t we offer people a new start to just be _Cybertronians_?”   Rodimus said, trying to simplify his idea as much as he could.   He looked at Megatron with hopefulness.

            A slow smile crept across Megatron’s lips.   Rodimus, acting like the leader that Megatron knew he could be……………. ** _this_** was a serious turn-on.   He liked Rodimus’ idea and promised that they’d speak to Ultra Magnus, Roller and some of the others about it.   That they’d bring it up to everyone stuck here and see what they thought of it.    Then he laughed, almost to himself, at how turned on he was by Rodimus and the younger one’s enthusiasm.

            “You’re _blushing_ again, old man…………..what is **_wrong_** with you?”   Rodimus chuckled, getting up and walking over to his sparkmate.  He reached up for Megatron’s head to bring it down so their foreheads touched again.

            “Just thinking about how much I’d _really_ like to screw around with you right now,” Megatron said, honestly, placing one of his large hands on Rodimus’ back, over the center of his spoiler fins, patting gently.   “And I am trying **_very hard_** to control myself, given the lecture you got from Ratchet and imparted to me.”

            “I guess, for now………….we’ll go with _‘it’s the thought that counts’_ ,” Rodimus laughed warmly, wrapping his arms around Megatron’s broad chest and resting his cheek against the Autobot symbol that was on his beloved’s chest.   “We need to figure out how to get the communications system back online so we can contact Cybertron.   **_UGH_** …………..there’s so much stuff we gotta do!”   Rodimus groaned as Megatron’s arms tightened gently around him, both of the older Cybertronian’s hands twined over the center of his spoiler.

            “We _will_ get it resolved, now that we have a lot more people here and I would be willing to bet we have some with great special skills—we just need to find a place for everyone’s skills in what we want to do,” Megatron answered, kind of rocking a little on his feet because Rodimus had started the motion with his enthusiastic hug.

            “Time to re-forge the path of our destiny, old man,” Rodimus murmured, lulled happily by the rhythm of the rocking and the warmth of Megatron’s embrace.

 

 

 

**Next story:  " _Revenge_ "**


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